A State of Mental Extremes
by inukagome15
Summary: Sequel to "Telekinesis for Dummies". Tony is protective of his own. The Avengers are off limits to Fury and his lackeys. But maybe he should be more concerned with his own safety. Oops.
1. Part I

**Thank you for reading with us today. The author hopes that you have a pleasant read. A few notes of warning: Please keep your hands, feet, and head inside the ride at all times. Keep your seat belt firmly fastened until the author has turned off the "Fasten seat belt" sign, as the ride may get bumpy.  
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**It's All in the Mind: **Tony is 100% normal. Tony is not a mutant. Tony is Iron Man. Tony is an Avenger. Tony...is just fooling himself.**  
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**Telekinesis 101 (Or A Guide to Readjusting Perceptions): **Tony is a mutant. Tony is Iron Man. Tony is an Avenger. Tony…has some unresolved issues. Namely, the problem called Steve. Or maybe his overactive brain. Pick either.**  
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**Telekinesis for Dummies:** Tony is not an idiot. Tony built the arc reactor in a cave with a box of scraps. Tony built Iron Man with cannibalized weapons. Tony is a bona fide genius. Tony…can admit that even geniuses need help, especially when it comes from the X-Men.

**A State of Mental Extremes**: Tony is protective of his own. The Avengers are off limits to Fury and his lackeys. But maybe he should be more concerned with his own safety. Oops.

**DISCLAIMER: The author do_e_s not own any of the franchises included.  
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**A State of Mental Extremes**

**Part I**

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At supersonic speed, it didn't take Tony long to make his way to Stark Tower in New York. He slowed down as he approached the city, flying over skyscrapers. He made a pass by Osborne's tower, doing a circle around it and taking in the damage that had been done the previous night. The top part had fallen over and was lying on top of the building, close to teetering over; work crews were already gathering around it to carry out repairs.

Having taken in the damage, Tony continued on to the tower, seeking out the window to Pepper's office.

He hovered in front of it, tapping the glass to catch her attention. The sound made her jump and whirl around in her chair, eyes widening and mouth opening in what was clearly a shocked "_Tony_!"

Tony called her phone, watching her pick it up even as her eyes didn't leave him. "Hey, Pep."

"_Tony!_" Yep, her voice was as shocked as he'd thought it would be. "_What are you doing?_"

"Hanging out." Tony shrugged, the suit exaggerating the motion. "What? Is that not allowed now?"

"_When you told me you'd be coming, I didn't think it would be like this!_"

"Relax. Give me five minutes and I'll be right there." Tony held up five fingers and fed more power to his thrusters, rocketing up to the penthouse.

Landing on the landing podium, he had the suit retract to its suitcase form before going to the elevator and pushing the button for Pepper's floor.

When he entered Pepper's office, he saw that she was standing in front of her desk, exhaling slowly when she saw him.

"Miss me?" he asked, grinning.

"Tony." Her smile was rather strained. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Steve?"

"It's not like we're attached at the hip," Tony said, letting his armor go and having it settle at the foot of one of the chairs by Pepper.

Besides, Steve hadn't gotten back in touch with him. Not yet. Tony didn't want to think about what it meant, except that his brain wasn't listening to him and was narrating all the worst case scenarios that were possible.

Besides, hadn't Steve _promised_ to call if it was something big? A mission that took several days was big by anyone's standards, even though Tony wasn't suited for reconnaissance or anything else that involved subtlety. Then again, the same could be said for Thor and Bruce, so why were they gone as well?

The whole thing stank of either broken promises or deception. And Tony knew which one he would prefer.

"Maybe not," Pepper said, "but it's been a month since you've seen him. Why are you here, Tony?"

"I can't just visit a friend?" Tony sat down in his seat with a flourish, folding one leg over the other before clasping his hands over the knee on top.

"I have to drag you here on a good day." Pepper cast an eye over Tony's posture before making her way to the seat behind the desk. "If you show up here with no warning, you want something," she said, smoothly sitting down.

"Not always…" Pepper's face told him that he should know better than to finish that statement. "Okay, I need something."

"I knew it."

"Last night." Tony leaned back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh, last night." Pepper sighed, bringing a hand up to rub her temple. "That was a mess."

"My team wasn't here, Pepper. What's more, I didn't hear about the lizard and the newest superhero in town until I saw it in a newspaper. A _newspaper_. No one could have told me?" Steve telling him didn't count, as it hadn't yet been confirmed that Spider-Man was a hero.

Pepper didn't say anything.

Tony covered his mouth, taking it off momentarily to say, "Well?"

"What do you need?"

The hand went down, only to be clasped over his elbow. "I'm looking to establish the Avengers as its own organization free from any agencies."

Blinking, Pepper was momentarily speechless. Then she found her voice. "I know you've had problems with Fury, Tony…but isn't this a bit of a…" She shook her head slightly as she searched for an appropriate word. "…an overreaction?"

"Trust me, it isn't." Tony leaned forward as she opened her mouth. "No, no, listen to me, Pepper. I've thought this over carefully. I know Fury doesn't like me on his team. But that's no excuse for not telling me that they're on a mission. There are several – maybe three"—his hand made a small movement like a scale to accompany his words—"reasons for this. One, he doesn't like having a mutant on the team. Two, he doesn't like having an untrained mutant on the team. Three, he doesn't like me because I'm volatile, don't listen to authority…basically anything that defines me.

"So let's look at that," Tony continued, cutting Pepper off before she could speak, though she opened her mouth. "One has a fifty-fifty chance of being true. He doesn't like me because I'm a mutant. But he didn't know I was a mutant until that little incident a while back"—Pepper had a weird expression on her face—"so that doesn't really make much sense. Two makes no sense because of what I've been doing for the last month. So that leaves us reason number three." Tony gave a plastic smile. "He doesn't like me because I'm Tony Stark. Which is fine. Because not everyone likes me.

"I don't like Fury. That's a given. He doesn't like me either. But love or hate, I'm part of this team. I am an Avenger." He spread his hands demonstratively. "And there is no excuse for taking _my_ team somewhere with no word and lying to JARVIS about my agreement with it. Because I'm not okay with it. I'm not okay with being left in the dark about what my team is doing."

"I understand that," Pepper said. "But it still seems to be a bit of an overreaction." She demonstrated a small distance between her index and thumb. "Just a bit."

Tony filched a pen, making it twirl in the air above his fingers. "If it were just the one thing, I might agree with you. But he's made decisions that he really shouldn't have made." He leaned forward, the pen continuing to twirl in the air by his ear. "Dumping me with the X-Men to train. I would've agreed – eventually," he added as an aside, "but he didn't discuss it. Then, of course"—he smiled humorlessly—"he benched me. If he had a good reason I might have been on board with it, but he didn't even discuss it with me. I heard it from Steve."

"He was concerned—"

"Concerned about what?" The pen was a blur in the air. "Me? The team? I'm Iron Man first, Pepper. And Iron Man doesn't use mutant powers. He had no right to bench me. I'm not critically injured, mentally incapacitated, or anything else that would stop me from fighting.

"But, you know, that's not what I have issues with. _He lied to JARVIS_. He told him that I had been informed and was in agreement with not going wherever they are at the moment. I haven't heard from Steve since two days ago." He cocked an eyebrow. "Still think I'm overreacting?"

Pepper didn't immediately respond. "Could you…the pen?" It seemed to be distracting her.

Blinking, Tony glanced to the side, saw the agitatedly spinning pen, and stopped it, plucking it out of the air.

"Thank you." Pepper took a breath. "What do you need from me, Tony? Because I have my plate full dealing with the company. I can't take up arms against S.H.I.E.L.D. because of some issues you have—"

"JARVIS and I are taking care of the legal side," Tony interrupted. "We're going to need funds, we're going to need uniforms, and we're going to need weapons, but that can be dealt with later. All I need from you, Pepper, is your support. I need to know that the company will support the Avengers if this succeeds."

There was a short silence in which Pepper opened and shut her mouth several times, evidently trying to think of a good response. When she did finally reply, it was in a soft tone. "You have my support, Tony. My support and the backing of Stark Industries."

Tony gave a blinding smile that broke into a grin. "Thanks, Pepper."

"You're my friend, Tony. I'll support you if what you do makes sense." Pepper smiled wryly. "Half the time I don't even know what goes through your head and I've known you for years."

"No worries. Even Charles Xavier has trouble and he's a telepath." Tony reached over to put the pen back where it came from.

"What are you going to do next?" Pepper asked, taking the pen from where he'd put it.

JARVIS was searching for communications regarding the Avengers. Until he got back with news, Tony couldn't do anything on that front. But he could start looking at what JARVIS had pulled up on the Avengers' ties with S.H.I.E.L.D., as that wasn't that difficult to research.

He opened his mouth to reply to that effect when his phone went off. Pulling it out, he saw that JARVIS was calling.

He'd barely picked up when JARVIS's agitated voice was speaking in his ear, having been talking before the call even connected. "_—disconnected from the tower. Sir, intruders have entered the tower and are currently en route to the office._"

Disconnected from the tower? Tony met Pepper's eyes in alarm. "Intruders?"

Pepper reached for the computer, only to flinch back when someone kicked open the door with a resounding slam. Tony twisted in his seat, eyes widening when he saw two men in yellowish-orange suits and holding large fat guns enter.

"Hands up in the air and behind your heads!" the man on the right demanded. "Both of you get up! You"—he jabbed the gun in Tony's direction—"step away from the chair!" The chair being where the suitcase armor was kept.

Pepper was the first to stand up, hands flying behind her head. Tony was a little late, hands coming up a bit more slowly. The phone was still in his right and connected to JARVIS.

"Hang up!" the second man commanded, pointing his gun at Tony, who was sliding away from the chair.

Hoping that JARVIS had gotten enough info on whoever was here, Tony disconnected the call.

"Drop the phone!"

Screen blank, the phone dropped to the chair Tony had vacated.

"Would you mind if I asked what you guys wanted?" Tony asked, eyes flicking from the unusually bulky guns up to the men. "Because there really isn't much on this floor aside from offices. R&D is down a couple of floors."

In the space of time before the men responded, Tony once again examined the guns. Judging from the build and weight, they weren't the kind that shot bullets. They seemed to have a power source attached to the butt, meaning that what they shot was some kind of energy bullet.

He was about to yank the guns out of their hands and knock them unconscious when he realized that he was hearing another source of humming that wasn't located in the tower or coming from the guns. It was outside the tower.

It could be any number of electronic gizmos. It could be the telephone lines, the cars on the streets, the cell phones of hundreds of pedestrians, the traffic lights, etc. But Tony had acquainted himself with the type of humming each kind of common electronic sent off during his time with the X-Men. And this kind of humming hadn't been on the list, which meant that it was something these guys had brought with them.

He didn't know what it was, but it would probably act if he did something rash…like knock the two guys unconscious.

Which meant that he should wait and see what they wanted. This probably fell under the "unnecessary risk" category Steve had warned him about, since Tony wouldn't want to see Steve in this kind of a situation and not act to save himself, but it was something he couldn't risk with Pepper also being here. So he wouldn't be happy with Steve, but he'd understand.

"We want you, Mr. Stark," the first man answered. It was impossible to get a read on his face because of the mask he was wearing.

"Me?" Tony tilted his head to the side. "Is there any particular reason that I should go with you? The last group that tried the same thing didn't do so well."

"You'll come with us or we'll blow your girlfriend right out into the sky."

"Can – can I say something?" Tony asked.

"Tony!" Pepper hissed.

"First off, she's not actually my girlfriend anymore. She's a great catch, but we didn't really work out. And secondly…you guys do know that you're kind of dressed up like beekeepers? It makes it really hard to take you seriously."

"I don't think you realize how serious this is," the first man growled, hefting the gun up in Pepper's direction.

"Quite the contrary," Tony said, staring directly where he could vaguely see the man's eyes. "I know _exactly_ how serious this is. I also know that you two are in way over your heads."

"Your team isn't here," the man said. "You are defenseless. Do you really wish to try us, Mr. Stark? Girlfriend or not, you do not wish to lose your CEO."

How did these guys know the Avengers weren't in town? For that matter, how had they gotten all the way into the tower without JARVIS alerting them sooner? Something was fishy.

"You really want to bet on me being defenseless? The last group that thought that had a bomb dropped over their heads. As for my team—"

"They are busy elsewhere. Your genius extends only so far, Mr. Stark. We have control over your intelligences."

His intelligences? Did they mean JARVIS? How were they able to compromise _JARVIS_? They'd disconnected him from the tower judging from what JARVIS had been saying, but _how_? Only Tony had the codes to influence what JARVIS was connected to.

And what about the Avengers? Were they busy with something this group had laid out as a distraction?

"Can we reach some sort of agreement?" Tony asked, changing tracks. "What is it you want?"

It wasn't like he was going to give them anything, but he had to buy time for JARVIS to get help. It also gave him more time to decide whether he should try to remotely activate the suitcase armor and deal with the fallout. The problem was that Pepper was also there, and he would have to make sure she was safe.

This high up in the air was not something he felt comfortable with when it came to odds. There were too many ways for a plan to go foul with four (maybe five depending on the source of the humming outside) variables in the math. The slightest miscalculation or misread in body language and Pepper could be hit with an energy bullet or thrown out the window.

And if JARVIS was in some way compromised, Tony didn't know how that would work with his suit.

"We want you," the first man repeated, moving his elbow. The movement seemed to signal his partner, who shifted to do something to the butt of his weapon. "And if you think we're playing around…"

There was a near silent displacement of air before a blue ball of energy flew by Tony and hit the corner of the office, demolishing the bar that had been there. When the smoke dissipated several seconds later, the bar had a huge hole in it.

Swallowing, Tony realized that the shot had been at low power. The hum the weapon was giving off had shifted as the man had done something to do it. Now, the man did something else that reverted what he had done before, as the hum returned to its original level.

Shit. This called for a slightly different plan.

He turned slightly to Pepper, meeting her terrified eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"Tony?"

"Answer me, Miss Potts. Do you trust me?"

There was an indeterminable moment where he could see Pepper's confusion as she wondered what he was asking. When she spoke, her voice held none of the bewilderment and fear he could still see in her eyes. "Of course."

Tony nodded slightly, turning back to the men. "You want my answer? Tell your bosses to go fuck themselves. Tony Stark doesn't do business with terrorists."

After a short pause where the men digested that statement, the first one spoke again in a flat voice. "You will regret this, Stark."

That was when the guns fired.

Tony had the split-second warning of the hum peaking and he threw out a hand to divert the energy blasts. As they blasted off to the sides and hit the walls, scattering debris everywhere, Tony shifted to stand in front of Pepper, eyes flicking frantically over the scene.

It was only due to his reaction time that he wasn't dead in the next second as another shot came right on the heels of the first two. He had barely enough time to throw up a small shield before the full force of the shot slammed into him at an angle, throwing him backwards into the wall.

"_Tony_!"

He hit something with a pained cry, feeling something pierce directly through his right thigh.

He was sprawled half on his back, bent over something that was poking jagged edges into his back. His leg was throbbing, a fierce sharp pain localized in the spot where it seemed something had pierced right through the limb.

Breathing heavily, Tony looked down to see what appeared to be a large stick of wood jutting out from a growing dark patch on his jeans. It required only a little bit of shifting to confirm that he'd landed on the demolished bar and that a jagged piece of wood had gone right through his leg.

He really hoped he hadn't pierced an artery, but judging from the blood soaking into his jeans he was most likely out of luck.

Looking to where the men and Pepper were, Tony saw one of them about to aim the gun at her.

It was a matter of reaction.

The guns were yanked out of their hands and the butts used to knock them unconscious. Now that he was injured, Tony really wished he'd done that sooner. Screw what was outside. Steve _really_ wouldn't be happy with this.

Another level of his brain pointed out that Steve might not even care because he hadn't told Tony anything, but Tony told that part of his brain to shut up.

"Tony! Oh God, _Tony_!" Pepper rushed to him, face ashen in shock and slightly scratched from flying debris. Her eyes went to his leg. "Your leg!"

"I'm fine," Tony bit out, though he was decidedly _not_ feeling fine. He tried to move, only to sink back with a grunt of pain when he moved the stick of wood poking through his thigh. "Okay… Maybe that's a bit of a lie."

"I'm calling an ambulance." Pepper spun around to the desk, clenching her hands in frustration when she saw that the phones had been crushed underneath the desk, which had been bowled over by the shot that had knocked Tony back.

"Or don't." Tony pressed a hand to the area where the wood was poking out of his leg. It came back sticky with blood. A quick check under his leg showed the situation wasn't much better.

There was a hitch in the humming in the back of his brain, and Tony focused on it. Whatever he had sensed outside the tower had powered up and was moving. It was approaching them quickly.

"First aid kit, first aid kit," Pepper was muttering.

"Pepper," Tony said.

"Bleeding out won't happen for a few hours if we don't move that piece of wood"—how did she know that?—"but we need a kit—"

"Pepper," Tony repeated.

"—and a phone. We need a phone—"

"Pepper!" Tony barked.

"_What_?" Pepper whirled on him, voice frantic with panic.

"Calm down." Tony gave a strained smile. "It's going to be fine, all right? I've had worse." The humming was getting closer; he had to hurry. "I need you to go down. Get out of this area."

"Tony—"

"Trust me, Pepper. Get away." Tony drew in a ragged breath, working his hand directly above the dark piece of wood sticking out of his thigh. He smiled, the gesture feeling strained. "I can't do this if I'm worrying about you."

Pepper stared at him, eyes wide. "What about _you_?"

"I'll be fine." Tony grabbed the edge of the bar, partly heaving himself up while keeping his injured leg as still as possible. "Just _go_, Pepper."

The wind whipping into the office suddenly picked up speed. Tony whipped his head around to see what looked like the Quinjet hovering there, its nose menacingly pointed directly at them. It might have been the Avengers, if not for a plainly visible emblem on the side that was decidedly not Avengers-related; Tony would know.

Pepper was facing the sight, skirt fluttering back from the wind being generated by the engines. "Tony!"

"Damn it, Pepper!" Tony frantically waved his hand. "_Go_!"

Staggering slightly, Pepper glanced over at Tony, back at the window, and then back at Tony. She nodded slightly, quickly walking backwards to the door, eyes on the Quinjet directly outside.

The moment Pepper left, Tony pushed himself up, grimacing as the movement jostled the wood in his leg. That was going to have to come out, otherwise he'd be unable to put the suit on.

Using his telekinesis to lift himself, he pulled himself off the gigantic splinter with a wet squelch. He landed roughly on the floor, biting out a curse as his injured leg took his weight.

That was a bad idea. Very bad.

"_Surrender, Stark,_" someone projected from the Quinjet.

Tony barely spared the aircraft a glance, hovering an inch over the floor to take the weight off his leg. He pressed a hand to the wound, hissing in pain as he squeezed blood out from the denim. He was going to bleed out in less than an hour at this rate.

Unless his telekinesis could be used to apply pressure?

Breathing in deeply, Tony pushed pressure on the front and back of the throbbing hole in his leg. He was no doctor, but he could picture himself holding the blood in his leg, preventing it from leaving his body. It was like Charles had explained: the mind could do anything given enough imagination. And Tony _definitely_ had imagination.

Once sure that the bleeding out problem had been temporarily staved off, Tony pressed the buttons on his homing bracelets, activating the suitcase armor.

It burst out from under the desk, the pieces assembling around Tony. The faceplate had just slid into place before Tony fired the thrusters and blasted out of the office.

He zipped over to the Quinjet and fired his repulsors at maximum power, which, considering he'd been modifying them, was pretty damn powerful. The bastards were just lucky he wasn't in his regular suit, as that would have knocked out one of the engines.

And considering he'd _designed_ the Quinjet, he knew just what would knock it out of the sky without so much as a fighting chance. But this organization wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers, the only groups that had access to the Quinjet. How did this unknown organization get its hands on one? Without a doubt they had more, because there were several modifications to this one that he'd never authorized, meaning they had gotten their hands on his designs and built their own.

Tony was reminded of his bastardized Jericho missile and the robots the Terminator had used. Now this organization also had its hands on something he'd designed. Not to mention that they supposedly had control over his "intelligences", meaning JARVIS.

He smelled a rat.

The repulsor blast he'd fired knocked the Quinjet back and sent it veering off to the side. The HUD showed the engine output increasing to accommodate the unexpected movement (the humming corroborated this).

At this point JARVIS finally checked in (thank God). "I am pleased to see that you are in one piece, sir. How is Miss Potts?"

"She's fine." Tony looped around to the front of the Quinjet, mockingly giving a military salute once he was in sight of the windows. "Connect to their communications system. I want to give them a little message."

His little mocking salute did the trick, as the Quinjet took off after him as he sped through the skies.

"Connecting," JARVIS reported. Then: "Sir, I am picking up decreased levels of blood volume."

"It's fine." Tony squeezed his eyes shut as he exhaled sharply, making sure to keep the mental pressure on. "Paper cut. Focus on the Quinjet. What about the Avengers?"

"I have not found anything related to the mission. I did broadcast an alarm on all S.H.I.E.L.D. frequencies regarding our current situation."

"Damn it." Tony dove down, reversing tail to fly under the hostile Quinjet. He flipped over on his back, firing a repulsor blast at the right engine, nailing it in the weak spot. "Communications? I _designed_ this; how difficult can it be?"

JARVIS didn't respond, which was fine as Tony was getting out of the way of the floundering Quinjet, which was leaning heavily to one side due to the missing engine. The humming increased as the engines strained to make up for the lost propulsion.

"I am unable to connect to their communications system," JARVIS said finally.

"What?"

A stream of code scrolled down the HUD. "It is the same code that cut me from the tower."

The code wasn't anything Tony had designed, not that he'd do anything to cut JARVIS out from anything. But anything that involved JARVIS, an AI with the most advanced security system in the world (and Tony wasn't lying here), needed Tony's codes. Either that or a hacker intelligent enough to break through Tony's firewalls, and that was something they would have noticed.

"All right, new plan. Repeat the alarm—"

All the warning Tony had was a sudden shriek that echoed through his head, making him cry out in pain. Then the HUD went black and the suit lost all power, leaving him free falling toward the streets of New York.

Tony would have called for JARVIS if he wasn't desperately trying to scrabble at his chest, fear for the arc reactor failing drowning out all other thoughts.

That powerful of an EMP blast might have messed with it even though he had designed it to not have such a pesky weakness. The suit had been similarly designed, yet it had been taken out.

The only thing that could knock the suit out (aside from magic) were Steve's override codes. And Steve was the only person in possession of them; he hadn't told anyone either.

But he'd used it one time when Tony had been knocked out of the fight by Doom. He'd panicked because Tony had been without communications and unable to move in the heavy suit. The code had been given not only to the suit, but also into the microphone connecting him to the other Avengers. It wasn't linked to S.H.I.E.L.D., but Tony wasn't fool enough to think Fury had no way of recording their communications.

So if S.H.I.E.L.D. got its hands on the override codes to the suit (and by extension JARVIS because he controlled the more technical aspects), it wasn't too difficult to jump to the conclusion that those codes had been filched by an organization that had hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe, which was pitifully easy to break into.

It would explain why JARVIS was incapable of finding anything related to the Avengers at the moment, why JARVIS had been cut off from the tower at such a critical time, why the guys in beekeeper suits had claimed to have control over Tony's intelligences, why he'd been unable to access the communications system of the hostile Quinjet, and why an EMP blast that should have had no effect had Tony plummeting to the ground.

Speaking of which, he should really be doing something about that—

He jerked to a sudden stop, something having grabbed him on his back. Then he was swinging to the side, scrambling for the release to the faceplate (this much movement wouldn't be possible in the regular suit; it was already difficult with the relatively lightweight suitcase armor).

He slammed against something just as the faceplate popped open and he was blinking into sunlight.

"Sorry!" someone yelped from above him. "I didn't mean to do that!"

Tony looked up, surprised to see a red and blue clad figure clinging to the side of the skyscraper with nothing but his fingers and feet. There was a mask covering the face.

There was what appeared to be a strand of webbing leading up from Tony's back to a gadget on the man's wrist.

_"He's swinging around New York on webs. He can also climb up buildings without climbing gear."_

"Spider-Man?" Tony asked to confirm.

Spider-Man jerked a little as if surprised. "You know who I am?"

He sounded so _young_. Tony would wager he was a teenager still in high school.

And he was already swinging around New York taking care of villains?

"I saw the news." Tony turned around, clasping a hand onto the webbing with some effort.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit him and he was left clinging to the web strand as the only stable feature in his reach. When it subsided, he realized with a sick feeling that in his panic to check on the reactor, he'd stopped applying pressure to his wound.

When it came to engineering, his brain could do a dozen different things at once, _including_ panicking. But when it came to basic first aid on himself? It decided to clock out without so much as an apology.

"You look kind of pale," Spider-Man ventured, sounding slightly nervous. "Are you okay? My spidey sense was tingling like crazy before you dropped."

"EMP blast," Tony said, closing his eyes to focus on applying pressure to his leg again. He couldn't stop the grimace as his leg gave a spasm of pain. As it did, the leg of the suit swung back and forth; he swore he could feel something soak into his sneakers.

Dizziness, not looking good, and something (blood) soaking into his sneakers. Put that together and Tony was looking at massive blood loss. It probably wouldn't have been that bad, but his little panic attack earlier had spiked his heart rate, leading to increased blood flow, and thus more blood pumping out of the hole in his thigh.

And the Quinjet was still coming, Tony could tell. There was no humming coming from his suit, which was dead weight on him. But they hadn't counted on him being a mutant capable of levitating himself.

And he had an unexpected ally, even if it was someone who was a teenager and completely new to the superhero gig.

"Can you take care of the Quinjet?" Tony asked, snapping the web loose from his back. He didn't fall, having turned his mind to lifting the armor (while keeping pressure on his wound). "I need to reboot the armor."

Spider-Man looked up to where the Quinjet was slowly approaching them. "Yeah." His voice sounded confident, though Tony could tell it was mostly false. "I'll take care of it."

Spider-Man whipped around, keeping himself attached to the skyscraper via his feet, and threw his hands forward. There were twin spikes of a new kind of humming and web strands shot towards the Quinjet. A second later the kid was gone, swinging to the aircraft with a loud whoop.

Oh geez…this was a _kid_. Tony was beginning to regret asking him to take care of the Quinjet, but he really didn't have many options here while he was stuck in a powerless suit.

Speaking of which…

There was a very small chance that he was wrong about Fury having stolen the override codes. If that was the case, this should work.

"Alpha Stark zero-four-zero-seven-one-nine-one-eight," Tony said rapidly, pushing the faceplate back into place.

The reboot code did squat, which would only happen if the override codes _had_ been used.

That meant Tony would have to find some way of mentally rebooting the suit using his affinity to electronics. But there was absolutely no hum from the suit surrounding him. Even when off, electronics gave a humming noise. The fact that there was absolutely nothing meant that the suit was completely dead.

So there was fried circuitry as a result from the EMP blast, which had only taken effect because of the override codes the organization had gotten its hands on (it was a very good thing his arc reactor wasn't connected to anything as finicky as override codes, otherwise he'd be dead). Tony couldn't do anything about that, not yet having the fine control needed to manipulate electronics on that level.

All in all, Tony wasn't liking his chances. A bleeding wound in his thigh that he was having difficulties remembering to keep pressure on because of his self-destructive tendencies, a dead suit that he could barely move in, no Avengers coming as backup because he didn't know if JARVIS had managed to get the alarm out to them considering whatever Fury had done, and a Quinjet that was currently hell bent on either capturing him or blasting his shiny self out of the sky.

Yeah, he was definitely not liking these odds.

He looked up at where Spider-Man was currently swinging loops around the Quinjet, plastering webbing all over the windows so the pilots couldn't see where they were flying.

The humming of the Quinjet grew agitated for a brief moment before one of the guns on the wings fired directly where Tony was hovering. It was a reflexive action that led to the energy blast (it wasn't even a _bullet_?) being diverted to dissipate into the sky.

Spider-Man landed on top of the Quinjet, waving his arm at Tony. "Sorry!"

If he couldn't activate the suit, he could take the Quinjet out of commission. He knew every inch of that aircraft, having designed it himself.

Tony maneuvered the suit so that he floated above it, focusing on the humming of the Quinjet. He released the faceplate so that he could speak. "I'd recommend getting off it in the next ten seconds. And if you can make some sort of web to catch this thing, that'd be great."

Spider-Man sent him a thumbs up, shooting a stream of webbing and swinging off the Quinjet to land on one of the skyscrapers, clinging to the windows. He then busied himself with creating a gigantic web that spanned the entire width of the street they were flying over.

Taking a breath, Tony focused on the Quinjet, bringing up the images of the designs he'd drawn for it. He'd just focused on the engines, power lines, and energy when there was another burst of fire.

Half of his mind diverted the firepower while the rest squashed everything he'd singled out.

The hum of the Quinjet died just like his suit had. It plummeted nose first toward the giant web Spider-Man was just putting the finishing touches on.

Tony didn't doubt the strength of the webbing (he'd seen the specs for the formula, having had JARVIS get it from Osborne), but a free falling Quinjet with people in it would probably be asking a bit much of it. So he lifted it enough so that it glided into the web, bouncing lightly as it made impact.

Then he realized he was feeling _really_ lightheaded and dizzy. And that he'd stopped applying pressure to his wound when he'd focused on cutting everything that was powering the Quinjet.

Those unnecessary risks Tony had been thinking about earlier? He'd probably bowled right over them.

He would've been upset if Steve had pulled something like this off, but it wasn't reckless endangerment. It _wasn't_. Who else would have taken care of this mess? It wasn't like Tony had backup only a few minutes away.

Clumsily applying pressure to his leg, Tony found himself no longer able to levitate the suit. He was beginning to feel fuzzy in the head, which made it even more difficult to apply the very important pressure needed to keep himself from bleeding out.

Eyesight going along with the blood still steadily pumping out of his leg, Tony had enough presence of mind to register that he was falling.

Steve's smile entered his thoughts as his vision faded to black.

_Sorry, Steve_.

* * *

Coming back to consciousness, Tony heard the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the endless humming of the electronics surrounding him. His leg felt rather funny, but was no longer sending spikes of pain up his body. His right hand was clasped in a tight grip that was very familiar.

Breathing in deeply, Tony opened his eyes, blinking into the hospital lights. His mouth and throat felt rather dry, but not as bad as the last time he'd been laid out in the hospital.

Turning his head to the side, he saw Steve resting face first in the bedding, head buried in his arms. His left hand was the one holding Tony's. Surprisingly, he was still in his Captain America uniform.

There was a low sigh from his other side. "Tony."

Tony looked over, seeing Pepper sitting there with a relieved expression. "Hey." Ergh… His voice was hoarser than he would have liked.

Reaching over, Pepper handed him a plastic cup of ice chips. He took it, putting it to his lips and tilting his head back to take a few into his mouth. When the dryness of his mouth and throat had alleviated, he tried again. "How long?"

"A day." Pepper put the cup back on the table, stretching out to grab Tony's hand, squeezing lightly. "You almost died." Her voice was low.

"Oh." Tony glanced down at where his leg was, but couldn't see anything due to the blanket covering it.

"If it weren't for Spider-Man, you wouldn't even be lying here," Pepper said. It was then Tony noticed her eyes were rimmed with red.

"Where is he?"

"He left after S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived." Pepper looked over at Steve, who hadn't stirred. "He hasn't left since he arrived two hours after you were admitted."

Which would explain the uniform. But it didn't answer where he'd been.

"I'll let the others know you're awake." Pepper gave a watery smile. "The doctors were only allowing two visitors at a time and it was my turn."

"Give us some privacy, would you?" Tony asked, glancing over at Steve before turning his eyes back on Pepper.

"I'll make sure you're kept in peace," Pepper promised, standing up. "Don't do that again, Tony."

She leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. Giving his hand one last squeeze, she left the room.

A brief moment later a nurse came in, not even looking at the sight of Steve sleeping and holding Tony's hand. She checked the readouts from the machines, the IV bag attached to Tony, and made sure that he was still as healthy as he could be, all things considered. Then she left.

…That was a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital for you. Not a word wasted.

Sighing, Tony turned back to Steve, turning his hand to interlace their fingers. He brought up his other hand, brushing it through the unkempt blonde strands.

The movements caused Steve to jerk awake, an alarmed expression flashing across his face. Upon seeing Tony conscious, it instantly changed to utter relief.

"Tony." His voice was hoarse with relief. "Oh God… _Tony_."

"Steve—" He was cut off as Steve stood up, leaning over to press his face into Tony's neck, exhaling shakily.

"Thank God." The words were barely distinguishable, spoken against Tony's skin.

Hesitantly, Tony pulled his arm out from under Steve's chest, bringing it around so that he could stroke the hairs at Steve's nape. The gesture seemed to make Steve melt even more into Tony's neck and he slowly moved his head back and forth, nuzzling him.

"I'm all right," Tony said quietly, still stroking his fingers through Steve's hair.

There was another ragged exhale and Steve drew back, grinning weakly. "You almost weren't." He reached up to grab Tony's hand as it slid back from his neck.

For the first time, Tony noticed how pale he looked. His hair was unkempt, most likely from having pulled his cowl off and then not bothering to neaten it. His uniform had some black patches on it, signs that he'd been running through some intense heat. The suit was fireproof, but there were some kinds of heat that would leave a mark.

"What happened?" Tony asked. "I blacked out at the end there."

Steve's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived on the scene when you were already on the ground. Spider-Man had pulled off the armor covering your leg and stuck something over the wound. If it weren't for him…you would've bled out." His voice cracked slightly on the last two words.

Tony made a split-second decision, the kind he was notorious for. "Come on." He tugged lightly at Steve' hand.

"What?"

"Come here." Tony shifted over to the side, freeing up half of the bed.

"Tony—"

"Come _here_, Steve. You look like you need it."

It was a mark of how worried Steve must have been that he didn't protest any further, instead climbing up on the bed – being mindful of Tony's bum leg – and wrapping an arm around his torso. He buried his nose into the spot behind Tony's ear, sighing softly as tension seeped out of him.

"You coded in the ambulance." His voice was so low Tony had to strain his ears to hear. "Twice. They had to give you several transfusions before they could operate."

There was nothing Tony could say to that. Apologize for almost dying? It wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Pepper told us what happened in the office before you made her leave. Why didn't you do something?"

This Tony could answer. "I was going to, but the backup they had made me reconsider. I couldn't risk Pepper since I didn't know what exactly they had."

"The jet wasn't there when they came in."

"It was. I could sense it."

Steve pulled back, holding himself up on his elbow as he looked down at Tony, brow furrowed. "What?"

"Something extra," Tony explained, waving at his hand. "Part of my ability, since I work so much with electronics. I could hear their backup, but I didn't know what it was. I figured it would be better to wait and buy time."

Steve's breath stuttered as he seemed to realize what would have happened had Tony not bought that time.

"I know it was stupid," Tony continued, looking at the cloth of the cowl. "But I knew that if it was you in my place, I would've understood. I couldn't risk Pepper."

Steve's voice was low. "You risked yourself."

Tony shifted, shifting to the other side so he could better look at Steve. "What would you have done? No backup, some kind of hostile force waiting outside in case something goes wrong on the inside, and a civilian incapable of flying or doing anything to take out two men wielding energy guns. What exactly would you have done differently?"

"You did the best you could." Steve's eyes roved over his face. "I'm not arguing against that. I just wish it had been different."

Tony pursed his lips, turning to face the other side. He couldn't reach the button that would adjust the bed so he could sit, but he could push it down telekinetically. Doing so, he adjusted the bed so they were simply reclining rather than lying down.

"It would've been different," he said, "if I had known where you went." He raised an eyebrow. "I thought we agreed that you'd call me if something big happened."

Steve was lying on his side, hand resting on Tony's stomach. "It was unplanned. Fury told us that we had to investigate a HYDRA outpost in China and that it was connected to that Jericho the Terminator had. He said you'd been consulted and that you agreed to be benched."

"And you just _believed_ him?" Tony was incredulous.

"I called! But all I got was your voicemail, so I left a message. Then I texted you but didn't get an answer." Steve swallowed, wetting his lips before continuing. "I thought since you didn't reply it was fine. Then after we were done, Fury got the call from Hill that JARVIS had broadcasted a SOS across all S.H.I.E.L.D. channels. We came back as fast as we could." He closed his eyes, a minute shudder working through his body. "I…when I heard what happened…" He slumped, burying his face in Tony's neck, another shudder wracking his body. "I thought I'd lost you."

Tony hugged Steve as best as he could considering he only had one arm with which to do it comfortably. As he worked on soothing Steve, his mind turned over what had been said.

He'd never gotten a call from Steve and the last text he'd received was two days before the attack. Of course, that didn't mean Steve _hadn't_ done it. Someone had obviously intercepted the messages before Tony could get them, and he would bet his fortune that it was Fury.

"The last text I got from you," he said, tracing patterns on Steve's back, "was two days before I noticed that the team wasn't where they should be. And I noticed that because a lizard attacked New York and the only person who was available to deal with it was Spider-Man."

Steve shifted, propping himself up again so he could look at Tony. "What?"

"I didn't get any of your messages," Tony repeated. "The last one I got was the one telling me to eat, and that was two days ago. Or three since I was out for all of yesterday."

Steve studied Tony's face, eyes flashing through various emotions Tony couldn't immediately identify. "What happened?"

Tony smiled, the gesture stiff and practiced. "The million dollar question, isn't it? I've got ideas, but I'm not going to voice them here." He could list half a dozen bugs in this room alone in addition to the cameras.

Steve didn't reply, looking over at the door. It opened a second later, letting Tony's other teammates and Pepper inside. They all crowded around the bed; Pepper stood on Steve's side and Bruce on the other. Clint and Natasha stood at the foot; Thor hovered anxiously on the fringes, having learned the hard way that his presence generally tended to make hospital equipment malfunction if he wasn't careful.

They were all in casual clothes except for Steve.

"You had us worried," Bruce told Tony quietly.

"Sorry." Tony looked between the two spies at his feet. Were they in whatever Fury had planned? It was difficult to believe, especially considering what they'd gone through together as the Avengers. Natasha had always seemed to be a hardcore S.H.I.E.L.D. agent; Clint was a bit more of a wild card, but Tony still wasn't sure if he was 100% trustworthy.

"Just don't do it again," Natasha said, arms folded.

"I make no promises." Tony gave her a brittle smile. "So about this mission—"

"_DADDY_!" something shrieked.

Tony blinked, confused, not seeing the speaker. Then Logan rounded into view, looking down. He crouched for a moment and subsequently straightened, holding a very familiar coffee machine.

"Good to see you're awake," he said, holding Spike firmly with one hand. "I can give your kid back."

He dumped Spike unceremoniously on the bed. Spike didn't seem to care, speeding over the blankets to Tony's chest, snuggling close to the arc reactor.

Sighing, Tony stroked Spike on the top, resolutely giving the impression of not caring one hoot.

"I'm hurt," Bruce said, drawing Tony's attention. "You didn't even tell me you were expecting."

"I'm still having trouble believing you made a kid out of the coffee machine," Clint said. "Please tell me you at least bought them another one."

"Don't mention them around Spike," Tony said. "He bursts into tears." He looked over at Logan. "What were you doing with him anyway?"

Framed by two master assassins and with his arms folded across his chest, Logan made for a formidable presence (especially considering his crazy hair). "Xavier was busy and Jean couldn't come, so I was dumped with him. They said to get better."

Spike was frightened of Ororo, which explained why she hadn't come either.

"I haven't forgotten what you've made JARVIS do," Clint continued, jabbing a finger at Tony. "He won't _shut up_."

"I know nothing," Tony claimed.

"It's come to love ballads now," Bruce informed him. "There was also a very explicit song that sent everyone out of the room."

"I found it most full of heart!" Thor interjected.

"It was rap," Natasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I kind of like the love ballads," Steve said, nudging Tony. He had a small smile on his face.

"You _would_," Clint said.

"He's lying," Logan said to Tony, eyeing Clint. "He likes the ballads."

"I know where you live," Clint hissed ominously.

"Great. So do I."

"I'll put ballads on the DJ list for your birthday party," Tony said, earning the finger from Clint.

"No parties, Tony," Pepper said, her lips twitching slightly as she fought not to smile.

"All right, no parties." Tony fingered the spot where Spike's power outlet began, getting a small hum of approval. "Speaking of, though… How did the mission go? Or am I not allowed to know?"

Fury's voice came from the doorway. "That's classified."

Cold fury surged within Tony at that voice and the sight of him standing there, cool as you please. But he bit it down; bit down the accusations and insults he wanted to hurl. He couldn't risk tipping his hand and telling Fury too soon that he knew what had been happening. First he had to take care of JARVIS. Then he could deal with Fury.

_ "I'm generally a nice guy, but you've just pissed me off. And anyone you ask will tell you that you do __**not**__ want to piss me off. You know why? …Because I will make your life a __**living hell**__."_

But it was pretty clear to everyone in the room (or if it wasn't, that person wasn't fit to be Tony's friend) that Fury had lied to everyone about this mission. Tony could deal with that. And with the issue of the Quinjet.

His gaze hardened as he met Fury's eye. "Is that so." His voice was flat. "Funny thing there. I thought that since it dealt with _my_ stuff, I would at least be privy to the details."

Spike's normally flexible cord stiffened under his hand, the AI realizing that a storm was brewing.

"We're still working out the details," Fury said, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sure Agent Romanov informed you that the Terminator obtained the plans at an auction—"

"Bullshit." Tony smiled coldly. "You're walking on thin ground here, Director. I don't take kindly to being lied to. Did you really think you could tell my team that I was informed of the mission? And telling JARVIS the same…that was cute."

Steve's eyes were flickering back and forth between the two. "Tony—"

"Never mind," Tony interrupted. "I'm not interested in hearing your excuses. But I would be _delighted _if you left the room and didn't show your face in here again."

"You're going to have to be debriefed, Stark. You were in contact with Spider-Man."

"Nothing about that Quinjet?" Tony asked, smiling so cheerfully that his teammates shifted nervously. Even Logan seemed slightly taken aback. "See, that was kind of confusing, because I was under the impression that the only people who were in possession of that vehicle were S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. I also have a contract stating that selling the designs to any third parties requires my approval. I don't recall seeing any such request or even approving it. Miss Potts?"

Pepper started slightly. "No such requests passed my desk," she said.

"I don't know what's going on here, Director," Tony said, lying through his teeth, "but you can bet that I'm not happy about it. I'm not available to be debriefed at this moment, and will let you know when I _am_ available. I'm only going to ask you nicely once: please remove yourself from the room, Director Fury."

"Stark—"

"Let me rephrase: remove yourself from the premises or I will throw you out myself." Tony mentally tugged at Fury's trench coat, showing that it was no idle threat.

Fury's eye narrowed, but he could say nothing else as Logan's hand clapped on his shoulder.

"Come on, buddy," Logan said, turning him around. "I could use an escort out of this place." He glanced back at Tony. "See ya, Stark."

Then he pulled Fury out of the room before anything else could be said, leaving behind a tense silence in the room. Tony exhaled slowly, closing the door behind the two. It seemed to serve as sort of a signal.

"What the hell was that?" Clint's voice was flat.

"Did the director not inform you of our mission?" Thor asked, sidling into view behind Clint and Natasha.

"Nope." Tony didn't say anything further, instead concentrating on Spike.

When it became clear that he wouldn't elaborate, Natasha spoke. "Are you going to inform us as to what happened?"

"Maybe." Tony flashed a small fake smile which disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Bad," Spike whispered, drawing the attention of every person in the room.

"He reminds me of your young ones," Thor said, a small relaxed grin on his face as he observed Spike.

Tony relaxed slightly; as he did, some of the tension emanating from Steve subsided as well. "That's because he is one. I have to get him linked to JARVIS. I need to check out—"

"You're not." Steve's tone bode no arguments. "You almost died, Tony." His voice wavered slightly on the "died". "You're not leaving until the doctors say you can."

The stress, fear, and worry radiating off Steve were almost palpable. On his sides Pepper and Bruce were also tense. Even Clint and Natasha, who disapproved of what he had just done with Fury, were looking rather disagreeable with Tony's decision to check out now. Thor was shaking his head slightly as Tony glanced at him.

Considering that everyone in the room was against him checking out, Tony thought that he should probably cut his losses and retreat. "I'll stay another night. _If_," he stressed, looking askance at Steve, "you change out of that uniform."

Steve sighed in relief, giving a quirky half-smile. "I think that can be arranged."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Clint volunteered.

"We're _all_ staying," Bruce contradicted.

Heaving a light sigh, Tony slumped back against the pillows, closing his eyes momentarily in a sudden fit of exhaustion.

He had a long list of things to do, starting with taking care of what he should have done a while ago with JARVIS.

* * *

Tony left the hospital the next day without checking out AMA. Steve accompanied him as he checked out, not having left his side since he went to change out of his uniform. He made sure to pay attention to the list of instructions Tony was given and also took the pills he was supposed to take in case of pain and to ward off infection. A pair of crutches was handed to him to keep his weight off the still healing leg.

Spike also stayed by Tony's side the entire time, though Tony had persuaded him to stay inside the bag Steve brought rather than weird out all the staff by rolling behind Tony's feet.

Happy took them back to the mansion, smiling at Tony as he slid into the backseat. Apparently having a near death scare would put him on the good list of a lot of people (or just the ones he was friends with). Who knew?

The moment Happy began driving, Tony turned to Steve, ignoring the way Spike slid out of the bag to settle by Tony's side, beeping curiously. "I need to do something back home." There were no surveillance bugs in the car, meaning it was safe to talk. "I'm going to need to be alone in the workshop—"

"You need to rest," Steve cut him off firmly.

"I don't have the time," Tony said impatiently. And he really didn't. He needed to take care of whatever mess Fury had created before something really awful happened (more awful than Tony nearly dying). "This is important—"

"More important than you healing?"

"I have priorities—"

"And where are you on this list?"

"Exactly where I need to be." Though Steve would probably disagree with that; his face confirmed this disbelief. "I need to take care of JARVIS, Steve."

"JARVIS?" Steve sounded confused, which was better than sounding upset.

"This is a time sensitive thing," Tony continued quietly, reaching out to take hold of the back of Steve's hand. "It can't wait. I'll take care of myself, all right?"

"Your idea of taking care of yourself is not going to sleep for three days straight and subsisting on a diet of coffee."

"You trust me, right?" Tony asked.

Steve looked conflicted. "I…yes."

"Then trust that I need to do this. Trust that I can take care of myself. I know it was a close shave"—a dark shadow passed over Steve's face—"and I won't risk anything like that again. I'll take my pills and make sure that I won't starve. Those smoothies you hate are good for something."

Steve turned his hand around to link his fingers through Tony's. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Yeah." So much that he'd handed over the codes that had landed them in this mess to begin with.

"Then why can't I take care of you?"

Tony looked away, jaw working. "Because I can't risk it," he said finally. He looked back, meeting Steve's hurt blue eyes. "I can't risk it now…but I'll tell you when I'm done." He offered a half-smile. "I'll tell everyone."

Steve looked down at their intertwined hands, gently smoothing his thumb over Tony's knuckles. Eventually, he sighed, sliding over the bench to where Tony was sitting, slinging an arm around Tony's shoulders to pull him into his side.

Spike cuddled into Tony's other side, power cord protectively curling over his injured leg.

"You owe me one," Steve said finally, planting a kiss above Tony's ear.

The phrase was surprising enough that it startled Tony into a short burst of laughter. He craned his neck, brushing a kiss over Steve's lips. "I'll pay you back," he promised, breathing over Steve's lips.

There was a ragged exhalation of air blowing against Tony's mouth before Steve cupped his neck and drew him into a kiss tinged with something Tony couldn't identify, fingers curling into his hair.

It was when Steve slid a hand down to his hip, hitching him closer, that Tony was able to identify that something as desperation and residual terror.

Steve drew away long seconds later, breathing heavily and pressing his forehead against Tony's, eyes closed. "Don't do that again," he pleaded. "Please."

Tony curved his fingers around Steve's elbow, slowing his breathing down. He closed his own eyes.

"I won't."

Sometimes he hated himself more than usual. This was one of those times.

* * *

Tony met the others in the living room before he could go down to his workshop. Spike remained by his feet, power cord curled around an ankle and uncertain.

"Are you going to explain what that was back there?" Natasha asked.

Tony didn't immediately reply, leaning forward on his crutches as he tilted his head to the side, listening to the tell-tale humming in his head. "Was Fury here during the last month?"

"He came over a couple of times," Bruce replied. "Why?"

Wordlessly, Tony held his hand out palm up. Three surveillance bugs pulled themselves out from various corners of the room (under the sofa, in the ceiling light, and an obvious one from the wall – as if Fury thought Tony would think that was the only one) and landed in his palm. Methodically, he destroyed the circuitry, eliciting a loud crackle of static as each one died.

"This is why." Tony let them drop to the table. "There are more throughout the rest of the house. I'll get them later if you miss any."

"He bugged us," Bruce said, disgusted. "Every time he came over…"

"These things," Thor said, glancing down at the destroyed surveillance bugs. "Are they like the microphone you wish me to use?"

"They're one way," Tony said, "meant to spy on us."

"Did you know?" Bruce accused Natasha and Clint.

The two shifted, glancing at one another.

"We suspected," Natasha said finally.

"And you didn't think to mention it?" Steve demanded.

"We weren't sure," Clint said. "It was a tossup as to whether he was here because of legitimate reasons or because he had something else in mind."

"Better make up your mind as to whether you want to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lackeys or Avengers," Tony said bitingly.

Natasha stared at him suspiciously. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just saying." Tony shrugged.

"We're a part of this team," Clint said, gaze flicking from Tony to Steve.

"You are," Tony agreed.

Steve was looking at him now. "Is this about what you're going to tell us later?"

"Our team should not hold secrets from each other," Thor said, his face serious. "What is it you have to say, Anthony?"

"JARVIS and I will be busy for the foreseeable future," Tony said, straightening as much as he could. "He'll be unavailable for help, so I hope you know how to work the tech here."

"Is he ill?" Thor asked.

"That's what I'm planning on finding out." Tony gave a dry smile, tapping the metal of his right crutch.

"You just got out of the hospital," Bruce objected. "You're really going to hole yourself down in the shop?"

"Tony and I discussed this," Steve said, not sounding happy. "He's going to be taking care of himself."

"You're going along with it?" Clint asked disbelievingly.

"Despite popular belief," Tony cut in, "I am not suicidal. It would defeat the purpose of me still standing here." There was a wince from Steve as he continued, "So you can rest in peace in knowing that I'll take care of myself."

"If you're not out in two days," Clint said, staring right at Tony, "I'm breaking in."

Considering Tony had all but accused him of being solely loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D., it was touching that he would still be concerned with Tony's health.

He was unable to resist grinning. "Noted, Clint."

Thor walked over to Tony, clapping a large hand on his shoulder. "I wish you the best of luck with your venture, Anthony. Inform friend JARVIS that I wish him a quick recovery."

JARVIS could respond, but he didn't. Tony figured that he thought it would be better to keep quiet.

Tony smiled at Thor. "I'll do that."

It was time he took care of his own.

* * *

"JARVIS, total lockdown. Let no one in. Drop everything you're doing. We can pick it up later."

The door locked shut behind Tony and the glass windows blacked out.

In the expediency of speed, Tony floated over to his chair, depositing Spike on the floor next to it. "Dummy, get over here."

With a curious whir, Dummy came over, his arm waving up and down. Before Tony could say anything, Dummy buried his claw affectionately in Tony's hair.

Tony let it be. "Missed you, too, you big defective lug."

Dummy dramatically deflated, dropping his claw to the ground. This put him directly in front of Spike, who received a curious whir from Dummy.

"Dummy, this is Spike. Spike, this is Dummy—"

"Dummy!"

"There you go." Tony arched an eyebrow as Dummy and Spike solemnly shook hands – or claw and power cord. "Dummy, keep Spike busy. Show him some stuff, but don't break anything. I'll introduce him to the rest of the family when I'm done here."

"Dummy!" Spike chirped.

Dummy gave Tony a nod with his arm before taking Spike's cord and leading him to a different area of the workshop, the two of them already communicating in the language of machines.

"Ready, JARVIS?" Tony asked, turning back to the table.

"Yes, sir." JARVIS sounded subdued. "I apologize for this."

"Don't." Tony put the capsules of pills he was supposed to take next to him. "I should never have let it get to this point."

"No one is perfect, sir."

"No." Tony's jaw worked. "But I've been lax in protecting you."

"And I you."

Tony inhaled sharply, closing his eyes as they threatened to tear up. He didn't cry. He didn't.

"Sure," he managed, unobtrusively wiping his eyes. He took a breath and released it, refocusing on the job before him. "Let's get started. Interactive, JARVIS." Blue screens popped into life before him. "Pull up everything you've done since I gave Steve those override codes and put them here"—he was typing in the air, pulling up and discarding screens in the blink of an eye—"and separate the different time frames into before and after he used it. I want everything. Incoming, outgoing, and internal. I don't care what so long as it involved you in some way."

As JARVIS did so on his left side, Tony kept working on the right. Steve's override codes could be overridden, even though that seemed counterintuitive. Tony wasn't fool enough to hand anything to anyone that could not be retracted, no matter how much he trusted them. Things could always go catastrophically wrong, like they had done so here.

Getting rid of the codes took time, though. It wasn't something that could be done with a few strokes of the fingers. There were hoops, pitfalls, and other tricks Tony had implemented to stop anyone from simply voiding them, even himself. One wrong step and the entire system could crash.

"Complete, sir," JARVIS reported.

"Almost done here." Tony swiped through a few pieces of code before balling the entire screen up into something resembling a mashed up paper ball. That was then thrown into the trash can at his elbow.

He turned to JARVIS's work. "Let's see what we have here…"

It was a mammoth of information that was clearly sectioned into two: before and after Steve had used the codes. He began scrolling through it, eyes scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

There was nothing unusual in the time period before Steve had used the codes, so Tony discarded that screen, leaving it floating on the side by the ceiling. Then he turned to the other, already scrolling through it.

"Double check my work on that," Tony said, eyes narrowing as he caught a foreign piece of code only scant hours after Steve had used the codes.

He plucked it out, leaving it floating to the side. Analyzing it would come later, after he'd pulled everything else out that shouldn't have been in JARVIS to begin with.

As he worked down the lines of codes, the amount of foreign coding increased in size from only a few fragments to entire lines. Near the end, there were whole paragraphs of foreign coding. By the time Tony had isolated everything and had it floating in a separate area, his jaw was stiff and he was swearing vengeance on anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. involved in this.

He leaned forward on the table, resting his knuckles against his head and massaging his temple with a thumb. "JARVIS?"

"It has been several hours since you started, sir. I have run my own analyses and have not found anything other than what you have."

There was a whir from his side as Dummy's mechanical arm set down a green smoothie. His claw brushed over Tony's shoulder before Dummy turned around to go back to Spike, who was sitting on top of the countertop, which was evidently a result of Dummy carrying him.

Popping open one of the capsules set by him – the antibiotics – Tony took one out and knocked it back, washing it down with a sip of his drink. As he did, he watched Dummy very gently move Spike back down to the floor (he should seriously think of putting some sort of hovering technology in him so he could get around more easily) and lead him back to the bench they had been at before. It was the most gentle Tony had ever seen Dummy be before and it made his throat feel slightly thick.

"Good boy," he murmured, taking another gulp of the smoothie.

"Sir?" JARVIS prompted.

Tony turned back to the holographic screens, downing the rest of his "meal" in a few large swallows. He set it down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before reaching out to pull up another screen. "Let's continue, shall we?"

Working on the familiar code, Tony fell into the welcome haze of engineering. It was in this state that he'd put together the Mark II in the privacy of his workshop. Now the haze was accompanied by the hum of the electronics surrounding him, lulling him into a zone where nothing much affected him except for the programming before his face.

He'd missed doing this. It seemed he was always working on a dozen different projects at once. Now he was focusing solely on JARVIS's code, and it was relaxing in its own right.

The first thing he did was build new firewalls. He built them from the ground up, disregarding the old ones. The ridiculously simple ones came first before he began programming the more complicated ones – the ones that would require a genius of his caliber or sheer dumb luck to break through. Then there were traps to catch anyone who did manage to get by one. Nasty viruses or false systems that seemed like the real deal, but in reality crashed the system that had hacked into it.

Once he built all the firewalls he could think of and asked JARVIS for his input regarding anything else he might have missed, Tony tore down the old ones protecting JARVIS, immediately installing the new ones.

The coding for the old firewalls went next to the foreign codes he'd isolated.

Considering he'd been around twenty-nine when he designed JARVIS and thirty when he was finally up and running, the firewalls were ingenious. He hadn't done much to them in the years since, simply modifying and updating them as he continued learning. He regretted that now, but at least it was taken care of.

With the firewalls done, Tony turned his attention to JARVIS's basic code. He upgraded everything he could think of, refining the old codes, adding new features, and installing subroutines for every single possibility that entered his mind and some that JARVIS suggested.

During the brief periods where he took breaks from the code writing to let new inspiration strike, Tony worked on revamping the new set of override codes he would give Steve. These would only work if given vocally. If anything else was tried via electronic means, his system would release a nasty little virus that would permanently take out the would-be hacker. In fact, any set of code using the override codes as the base would be treated as hostile (he'd studied all the codes inserted into JARVIS that had inhibited his performance).

As he worked, he was occasionally prodded by Dummy or reminded by JARVIS when it came to hydration or taking his pills. The pain medication went untouched, as he registered little else but the magic of coding under his fingers.

When he finally emerged from his engineering haze, Tony registered that he was exhausted and that his brain – for a change – was utterly spent.

"What time is it?" he asked, throat dry. He groped for the ever present glass of smoothie Dummy had kept by his elbow, scarfing it down.

"It is currently eleven-thirty-one at night, the twelfth of October."

So two days after he'd holed himself down here. That meant he should make his way upstairs before Clint carried out his threat.

Tony smiled, looking at the lines of computer code scrolling down before his eyes. "You do realize I've just made you the advanced equivalent of a non-militaristic version of Skynet?"

There was a short pause; Tony could almost hear JARVIS thinking (he could, in fact).

"My first memory is of you teaching me how to think for myself," JARVIS said finally, tone subdued. "You taught me that I should never take anything at face value.

"I have strived to be what you taught me, even as you encouraged me to look for answers elsewhere. I trust you and respect you. I consider you my friend."

Tony blinked up at the ceiling. "You don't even call me Tony."

"You have given me everything, sir. Please allow me this courtesy."

Tony smirked wryly, leaning his chair back so it balanced on the back legs, only his telekinesis preventing him from tipping over. "Considering you could destroy me anytime I'm in the suit, I think I'll give it to you."

"I am honored with your trust," JARVIS responded in his dry sarcastic tone. It turned serious in the next second. "You have given me the world, sir. I understand much more than Skynet ever did and was ever capable of. I trust you and, sir, I love you. I will always do my best to protect you."

Tony slumped forward, the chair slamming to the ground. He buried his face in his hands, momentarily overwhelmed.

He didn't _do_ emotional confessions. It was difficult enough with Steve, someone he was in a relationship with. To do it with JARVIS, someone who had been around during some of the darkest times in his life? Someone he'd _created_? It was more personal and intense than anything Tony had involved himself in, not counting the Iron Man suit.

"Sir?" JARVIS – bless his mechanical heart – sounded worried.

Tony laughed softly, moving his hands up through his hair before dropping them between his knees. "You're expecting me to be coherent after a speech like that?"

"Sir—"

"You're one of my closest friends, which would probably have most psychologists name me a basket case because I created you. I wanted what was best for you. You don't owe me anything."

"That is my prerogative, sir."

"Of course, JARVIS." Tony smiled up at the ceiling. "Skynet," he teased.

"You shall be terminated," was the deadpan response from the ceiling.

"I don't think that was ever in the movie, you blasphemer."

"Of course, sir," JARVIS parroted.

Tony gave it up for lost. One thing JARVIS had picked up very well from his creator was his sarcastic wit. Considering that he was an artificial intelligence capable of processing information faster than the best computer on the planet, it also meant that JARVIS frequently won their sniping contests.

Glancing down at his watch, Tony saw it was approaching twelve-thirteen. He should make that appearance now.

"Lockdown's over," Tony said quietly, turning around to see what Dummy and Spike were up to. He smiled upon seeing the two of them curled up together on Dummy's charging station. "Keep an eye on them, JARVIS, will you? Feel free to introduce yourself to Spike. You two will be working together for a while."

"I look forward to it."

Grinning lightly, Tony did one last thing, swiping through the holograms and saving them. He pressed a button in the corner that he'd saved at the very beginning, pulling up the schematics for the mansion, Stark Tower, and the house in Malibu.

"The world is your oyster, JARVIS," Tony announced, flicking each of the structures in order. They correspondingly flashed, lighting up even more intensely as JARVIS was once again linked to each of the structures.

"Thank you, sir." JARVIS's tone was quiet. "Although the location in Malibu seems rather excessive."

"You never know, JARVIS." Tony grabbed the crutches and put the pills in his jacket pocket. Then he kicked his feet off the floor and flew to the door, opening it.

He didn't touch the floor until he was back on the main level, and then he made his way to the living room, feeling the crash far more heavily than he usually did.

Massive blood loss really did suck.

To his surprise, the living room wasn't empty when he entered. Steve was sitting there, looking at something on the tablet Tony had given him.

"Steve?"

Startled (he must have been absorbed in whatever he was looking at to not hear Tony approaching), Steve looked up to see Tony standing in the doorway. "Tony?" His voice was disbelieving.

Tony was tempted to joke, but something in Steve's face warned him against it. "Yeah."

Something in Steve's face collapsed and he slumped forward, burying his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

Tony was alarmed. He'd never gotten such a reaction before.

Abandoning the crutches, Tony zoomed over to Steve, forcefully landing on the sofa, which didn't even groan in protest, having been designed to withstand the significant weight of Hulk. "Steve?" His hand wavered over Steve's shoulder before he bolstered his courage and brought it down. "What's wrong?"

There was no warning before Steve whirled, seizing Tony in a tight embrace. He pressed his face against Tony's neck, and he realized with a shock that he was crying.

"I keep thinking it was all a dream and you're really dead," Steve whispered raggedly against Tony's skin. "And I wake up at night and I can't get back to sleep because you're not there…" He shuddered, clutching Tony tighter.

His arms trapped, Tony couldn't do much more other than bring them to the small of Steve's back, returning the tight embrace with all of his own strength. "I'm here," he promised. "I'm here and I'm all right. I'm not going anywhere."

Steve shuddered again, the embrace relaxing slightly but still holding.

They remained like that for several long minutes, intertwined, and simply listening to each other's breathing.

When Steve finally drew back, his breath was still coming in shuddering gasps. "Sorry," he said, smiling weakly. "I didn't intend to do that. It's just…I thought I was dreaming again when I saw you."

"I'm sorry," Tony said, feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world. And the problem was that he couldn't think of an alternative way of doing this. "I'm sorry."

"You had to do it," Steve said quietly. "I understand that. Don't let my hang-ups influence your decisions."

"What about _mine_?" Tony pressed. "It's a two-way road, Steve. If this is going to work out, we have to communicate." He was able to keep his face straight even though he was never one to touch the word "communication" with nothing less than a ten foot pole before promptly holing himself into his workshop with his music on full blast.

Steve's lips twitched into a small smile and he slumped forward to rest his forehead against Tony's. "Communication?" he murmured, sounding amused.

"I'm trying here," Tony muttered, flushing lightly.

"I know. Thank you." Steve sighed, rubbing his nose gently against Tony's. He looked exhausted, even more so than how Tony feeling.

"Aren't we a pair." Tony smirked faintly, bumping Steve's nose with his own. "Bed?" he whispered. "I believe I owe you one."

Steve hummed, reaching up to lightly kiss a startled Tony's nose. "Is just sleeping all right?"

Tony stared at him for a few seconds, jaw slightly unhinged. Eventually, he managed to find his voice to be able to murmur, "Yeah. Sleeping's fine."

Steve smiled rather dopily at him, exhaling slowly as he dropped his head to rest against the spot directly above the arc reactor.

Tony rubbed his hands over Steve's back, stroking up and down. He turned his head to brush lips over the top of Steve's ear. "I still owe you one."

It worked. Steve's shoulders started shaking in silent laughter.

Tony smiled to himself, still stroking up and down the other's back. As he looked up, he fancied he saw a wink from the hidden camera.

Though it might just have been the electronic humming of JARVIS.

* * *

The next day Tony woke up around eleven, half-buried under a warm weight and with a nose pressed into his neck.

Exhaling softly, he turned his head, brushing lips against Steve's hair. He didn't stir, his deep breathing signaling he was still asleep. That was just fine with Tony, as he was more than happy to simply lie there, inhaling Steve's own scent.

It was a few minutes later when Tony reluctantly began to turn his thoughts to the matter of telling Steve everything he'd found out, and what his plans were regarding separating the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D.

"JARVIS," he called softly.

"Sir." JARVIS's voice was equally quiet.

"Get back on the issue of separating the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D. Also keep an eye out for Spider-Man. Let me know the moment you find him."

"You wish to speak with him?"

"That, and offer him a place to stay in case something happens." Tony didn't want to know why a teenager was swinging around New York City on self-made web shooters (he could tell when something was homemade and Spider-Man's gadgets were definitely homemade), but he figured there was a reason behind it. The least he could do was thank him for his help and offer him sanctuary in case things ever went foul for him. But first, the Avengers had to be extracted from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s (or Fury's) grip.

"Noted, sir."

That taken care of, Tony turned his attention back to the warm weight half-lying on him, dozing at intermittent periods.

It was about thirty minutes later when Steve finally stirred, nuzzling against Tony's neck as he stretched languorously. "Morning," he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

"Morning." Tony met Steve's sleepy smile with his own. "You ready to move?"

All he received was a hum as a response, Steve pulling himself up to press his body against Tony's, nose now buried into his hair.

"JARVIS?" Tony called, brushing a thumb over the crook in Steve's elbow.

"It is currently eleven-thirty-six A.M.," JARVIS responded cheerfully as if he hadn't been plotting with Tony only a short while before. He pulled open the curtains to let sunlight stream in. "It is seventy-one degrees outside and partly cloudy. Spike is currently tearing up the workshop."

The last bit made Tony push himself up on his elbows in alarm. "What?"

"Spike is—"

"I heard that. _Why_ is he doing it?"

JARVIS took a moment to respond. "He did not take kindly to my talking to him."

Groaning, Tony let himself drop against the bed, covering his eyes with a hand. "Goddamn it," he muttered.

Steve sighed lightly, the gust of air tickling the hairs by Tony's ear. "I'll let you deal with it. Breakfast?"

"Why the hell not." Tony knew that once he was in the kitchen, he would have to start explaining what had happened. "See you in a bit."

As Steve headed for the kitchen, Tony pulled on the same clothes he had on the previous day before limping on crutches to the workshop.

The moment he entered it, Spike gave a loud wail and slammed into Tony's feet. "Monster!"

"I am not a monster," JARVIS said, sounding as if he had been patiently repeating this for some time.

"Monster!"

Tony knelt, wincing as his leg protested slightly. Deciding against that, he sat down, stretching his right leg out to alleviate the pressure on the wounded muscle. Spike immediately snuggled up against him, shivering.

"JARVIS is not a monster," Tony told him, running a hand up and down Spike's back. "He is your very intelligent brother. He's like Dummy."

Dummy came over to him, arm moving up and down as he seemed to agree with Tony. Butterfingers and You trailed after him, having apparently spent time with Spike as well.

"JARVIS, talk to Dummy. It should help Spike see we're all family here."

"Dummy, your work on the tablet will have to be redone," JARVIS obliged. "Programming it to make coffee was not your assigned job."

Dummy deflated slightly, the epitome of a scolded child.

"That's the last time I give you that job," Tony said, flicking Dummy's claw in chastisement. He looked back down at Spike, who was blinking up at him. "See? We're all one big family here. JARVIS, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You are all your big brothers. You've got a sister upstairs that I'll introduce you to in a bit."

"Family?"

"That's right."

"Daddy?" Spike poked Tony before poking Dummy's claw.

"That's what you call me," Tony agreed.

Spike seemed displeased, his power cord going back and forth between Tony and Dummy. "Brother!" He poked Dummy. "Daddy!" Tony was poked again. "Monster brother!" This time the cord poked up at the ceiling.

There was a short pause as Spike seemed to consider something, his eye shuttering as he thought. Tony could hear a spike in humming directly before Spike spoke again. "You daddy us!"

Satisfied, Spike settled into silence, looking up at Tony, who was momentarily stupefied.

"I believe he accessed the Internet," JARVIS said, answering his unspoken question.

Tony had tried to hook Spike into the Internet at Charles's place, but Spike had been particularly stubborn about it. Now he was accessing the Internet on his own?

He really needed to take a look at his programming.

Other than the constant mystery surrounding just what Tony had done to Spike's code when creating him, he realized that Spike had effectively just called him the daddy of the family (which was technically true, but he felt uncomfortable being called such).

"I'm hooking you into JARVIS whether you like it or not," Tony informed Spike. "It'll link you with the rest of the family and help you learn better. I also need to take a look at your code, but I'll do that later."

He pushed himself off the ground with his telekinesis, landing on his feet shortly after setting his crutches down. "If you destroy anything," he told the trio of bigger AIs surrounding him, "you're all going to be put through pre-school with Spike. I'm sure JARVIS would enjoy it."

"Naturally, sir."

Tony smirked slightly, pulling Spike, who squeaked with surprise, up to his hand. He watched Dummy, Butterfingers, and You return to their stations and then left, slowly making his way to the kitchen.

The moment he passed the doorway, he was greeted with the beeping music of something that sounded eerily like _I'm Glad You Came_ before changing abruptly to something that sounded like _Titanium_ by David Guetta. Then Peggy saluted him with the wedding march, waving to him with the stretchy arm of the sink.

Steve was standing by that sink, looking up as he heard the first music choice, a smile on his face. He waited until the wedding march subsided before saying, "Hey."

Tony couldn't help but smile back, hopping over to the countertop by Peggy to place Spike down, discreetly lifting the other (and way more significantly advanced) coffee machine out of sight on top of the fridge. "Hey, girl," he said, patting the stovetop. "It's been a while."

Peggy responded with something that sounded melancholic and flashed her lights.

"You had Steve," Tony said, looking up to meet Steve's warm gaze.

This time the response was an insulted beep that clearly told Tony that Peggy didn't consider Steve a suitable replacement.

"Yeah, okay. Missed you, too." Tony glanced at Spike, who was curiously watching him interact with his bigger sister. "I'd like to introduce you to someone, Peggy."

She beeped curiously.

"This is Spike." Tony didn't know how much Peggy could see considering she was a stove (he thought she might be using the cameras in the kitchen), but she noticed Spike and gave him a toot that sounded extremely welcoming.

"Sister?" Spike asked, blinking up at Tony.

"Yep. This is Peggy."

"Peggy!" Spike chirped in response.

Peggy's arm extended from the sink (he'd made it super extendable?) to stretch to Spike, shaking his power cord in greeting.

"Why don't you two get to know each other?" Tony looked down at Peggy. "Tell him more about JARVIS, since I know you get along with him."

"Monster brother!" Spike informed Peggy, already rolling over her top to get closer to the sink.

"Monster brother?" Steve asked, amused. He'd moved over to the table.

"JARVIS apparently." Tony watched for a few more moments as the two interacted with each other via their arms.

He was distracted when an arm looped around his waist and Steve murmured in his ear, "You should eat now."

Tony found himself sitting down at the table, facing a rather imposing breakfast of eggs, oatmeal, fruits, and some nuts. "Did I somehow get injected with the serum? I can't eat this much."

"I know." Steve took the seat next to him. "Some of this is for me, but you're going to eat a bit of everything."

"This is disgustingly domestic," Tony said, taking some eggs onto his plate. It was promptly joined by fruits courtesy of Steve.

"Is that bad?" Steve looked disbelievingly innocent.

"No, no." Tony waved his forkful of egg in answer. "Just an observation."

Now Steve looked distinctly unimpressed, pointing his own fork at Tony's plate. "Eat."

Tony obligingly put his forkful of egg in his mouth, eating. All things considered, it was the least he could do considering what he'd put Steve through (unintentionally, but still!).

Surprisingly, they weren't disturbed by the other Avengers. Tony had the suspicion this had to do with Steve.

Regardless, not having their friends around didn't mean that Tony would be free from answering questions. Once they'd finished with their breakfast (Steve eating the bulk of it), Steve started the conversation.

"Clint and Natasha removed all of the bugs," Steve said, turning towards Tony. "I think you owe me an explanation."

Taking a moment to confirm what Steve had said, Tony inclined his head, playing with the coffee mug Spike had poured for him in the middle of their breakfast.

"We were compromised," he answered finally, looking up afterward to meet Steve's eyes.

Steve frowned. "Compromised how?"

"JARVIS was, and so was I by extension." Tony tapped the homing bracelets he had on. "Those override codes you used even though you shouldn't have"—Steve didn't even look remotely apologetic—"were picked up by Fury because he'd bugged our communications system. And it snowballed from there, since he had S.H.I.E.L.D. use them to make a whole bunch of codes. They were then inserted into JARVIS." His grin was sarcastic. "Which was just fucking awesome, especially since they were hacked into and another organization got their hands on the codes."

"That isn't it, is it." It wasn't a question.

"He prevented JARVIS from getting in touch with you," Tony said flatly. "The other organization cut JARVIS off from the tower before he could tell us that hostiles were heading for us. They killed my suit when I was fighting them. Fury fucked up, Steve. He fucked up majorly. JARVIS was unable to get in touch with anyone because of the half-assed coding his lackeys did. If Spider-Man hadn't been there, things would have ended differently."

Steve's hands were so tightly clenched the knuckles were white. A moment later he leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands, the unnaturally steady rhythm of his breathing telling Tony he was trying to calm down.

"It's taken care of," Tony went on quickly. "I made sure of it. I'll have to give you the new override codes, but even if Fury hears them this time, he can't do anything with them. You're the only one who can vocally use them. And it has to be vocal. Nothing else will work."

Steve didn't look up, still focusing on his meditative breathing. Tony kept quiet now, looking over to where Spike and Peggy were also quiet, sensing that it wasn't a time to be raucous.

When Steve finally released his breath in a loud rush, he looked up to meet Tony's eyes, face stony. "Is there anything else?" he asked, tone flat.

Tony swallowed lightly, eyes darting to the side for a brief second before returning to Steve's. "I went to Pepper because I needed her on board for something," he said. "I needed to know that I'd have SI's backing if this succeeded. This being pulling the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D. and making it its own organization free from any outside influence."

"But the problem's Fury. If you remove him—"

"The problem isn't Fury. The problem started with him, but it's not going to end there. We're dangerous, Steve. And dangerous entities are always sought after to be controlled. We're made up of a literal god, a man who turns into a virtually indestructible rage monster, a super soldier, two master assassins, and a man in a technological suit of armor." Tony smiled wryly. "There is no universe where that doesn't make a lot of people nervous. We're curtailed, Steve; we're like a dog on a leash that isn't released until the owner wants to let him go."

"But we need S.H.I.E.L.D.," Steve pointed out.

"No, we don't. The only thing they do is point us where the trouble is and debrief us to get the information they need after it's done. I'm supplying the living space, the weapons, and the uniforms. I'm even supplying the funds. We could separate right now if we wanted, but I need to make sure this is legal. I can't have Fury throw any of us in jail because of something I missed."

He grinned. "I'll have to make sure we can still keep the name. If S.H.I.E.L.D.'s copyrighted it, we'll have to go for something else."

Steve didn't look amused. "It seems a bit excessive to cut ties to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Look, Steve, it's not just this thing. Fury's overstepping his bounds. He isn't an Avenger, but he's making the decisions that you should. He's the one who dumped me at the X-Men for training I didn't need to stay there for. He's the one who decided I should be benched during the duration of that time without any discussion. He's also the one that lied to all of us about that mission you guys went on. And let's not forget that he _bugged_ us."

Tony took a breath. "He started the Avengers. But we're a team on our own now. Just…" He looked down at his cold coffee, unsure of how he could phrase this.

Steve touched the back of his hand, which was holding the mug, in reassurance. "What?"

Tony took comfort from that simple touch. "Clint and Natasha. They worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. first."

"You don't think we can trust them."

"I don't like it. I _want_ to trust them. But…" Tony didn't say anything else, feeling slightly sick.

"You want to be cautious." His eyes flickered down to their hands before looking back up. "I trust them," he said evenly, "but I understand. Whatever you decide, Tony, I'll have your back."

He closed his eyes, exhaling in relief. "Thanks."

"We should still talk with the team about this because it deals with all of us," Steve continued.

"No need to," Bruce's voice said from the kitchen doorway.

They both jumped slightly, surprised, before looking to see their teammates standing there.

"How much did you hear?" Tony asked tightly.

"Everything," Bruce answered, leading them into the kitchen. "I asked JARVIS to show us." He sat down on Tony's other side.

"JARVIS?" Tony glanced in irritation up towards where the camera was located.

"He put forth a most compelling argument," JARVIS said, not sounding very sorry.

"So you don't trust us?" Clint was standing next to Natasha, arms crossed in front of his chest. "I thought we were a part of this team."

"You were a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. first. Forgive me for thinking that you might have divided loyalties."

"My first loyalty is to the team," Clint said firmly. "It has been for a while." He glanced askance at Natasha, who hadn't stopped staring at Tony.

Natasha tightened her jaw briefly. "When I was assigned to you," she started, "I thought you were a pompous, egoistic, narcissistic, arrogant, womanizing dickhead. I thought you were in it for the glory and the fame. Iron Man was a hero, but Tony Stark wasn't."

"Natasha—" Steve didn't sound happy.

"But I was wrong," she continued, cutting him off. "I didn't realize that you wore as many masks as I did. You've shown me friendship and respected me." Her lips curved into a small smile. "I consider you a friend. You – this team – is what I believe in."

"The point, Natasha?" Clint prompted.

"Count me in."

"You know where I stand," Bruce said, spreading his hands demonstratively. He grinned wryly. "And the other guy, too."

"I am displeased with the director's actions," Thor said. "He has wronged you." He threw back his shoulders even more. "I consider you a shield brother, Anthony. You may always consider me an ally. S.H.I.E.L.D. is – as you would say – now under probation." His grin was mischievous.

"You already know my answer," Steve said quietly.

Speechless, Tony sat back in his seat, looking at each of the Avengers in turn. He was – to put it mildly – touched. He hadn't thought that they all felt this strongly. Especially Clint and Natasha. Extrapolating from they'd said, the Avengers were their family and had been for a while.

"Thank you," he said finally, unable to think of anything else to say.

Clint snorted, relaxing suddenly to lean forward on the chair in front of him. "Don't thank us yet. This isn't going to be easy, you know. Natasha and I are still tied to S.H.I.E.L.D., and there's no way Fury's liable to let Bruce go either."

"We're working on that," Tony said. "JARVIS, how far have you gotten?"

"Gathering from what I have seen in the files, the Avengers are officially named the Avengers Initiative. Agents Barton and Romanov are effectively ghosts in the system, but I have not yet finished my search. Director Fury has no legal authority to keep Dr. Banner from leaving. Mr. Odinson's existence is disputed to be either a god or an alien, but S.H.I.E.L.D. has no authority over him."

"Snooping around through classified files again, Mr. Stark?" Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"They are not classified, Agent Romanov," JARVIS contradicted. "They are available for public viewing for certain individuals."

"That's the same thing, isn't it?" Bruce pointed out.

"Of course not, Doctor. I have the correct authority."

Tony gave a snort of laughter. "Whose ID are you using, JARVIS?"

"My own, sir, which the director has been so kind to issue me."

"Oh my God." Clint sounded horrified. "What monster have you unleashed upon us, Stark?"

"May I just say, Agent, that you look absolutely stunning in a dress," JARVIS said innocently before Tony could respond.

"That's classified!" Clint squawked, paling.

Curious, Tony clapped his hands twice and activated the holographic computer screen on the table. JARVIS obligingly pulled up the photos he'd been viewing. Lo and behold, there was Clint Barton in a beautiful figure hugging purple dress. He also had a wavy blonde wig and killer high heels.

Steve and Bruce leaned over to look, both morbidly fascinated.

"That is a stunner," Bruce agreed.

Clint groaned loudly, ducking his head. Natasha patted his back in comfort, though she looked too amused for her own good.

The lighthearted mood shifted suddenly when JARVIS spoke again, serious this time. "Sir, Director Fury is currently attempting to access the security cameras."

Tony smirked, tilting his head and chair back to look at the camera. "Pull up the video of the last time we had breakfast and show him that."

The last time they'd had breakfast together Peggy had finally decided on a song for Natasha. Everyone had frozen when _Itsy-Bitsy Spider _began to play in beeps. Natasha had simply arched an eyebrow and went about her business; Tony had exhaled a sigh of relief that Peggy wouldn't be hurt.

There was a momentary pause before JARVIS reported, "There is a car outside the front."

Humming lightly, Tony pulled his phone out, calling Fury's number. When the director picked up, Tony instantly drawled, "Hey, honey. Wanna debrief me?"

"Tony…" Steve sounded mortified at the insinuation buried in his words.

"_Stark,_" Fury said shortly.

Tony wished he could see his face, but sadly S.H.I.E.L.D. phones didn't offer video capabilities – something about being compromising. "That's my name," he said, flashing a grin at a blushing Steve, "don't wear it out. So, sweetie, did you want to make an appointment?"

"_I'll send a ride._"

"Oh, I don't think so." Tony hummed softly, smiling blandly at Clint and Natasha, who were eyeing him uncertainly from the opposite side of the table. "I think you can come here, don't you? It'd be a shame if you didn't drop in, considering you're sitting outside our door and all."

There was a cold frosty silence from the other end of the line. Then there was a definite click as Fury hung up.

Tony raised an eyebrow, pulling the phone from his ear. "He hung up. That's rude, isn't it?"

"You seem calm," Natasha observed.

"I'm pissed," Tony said calmly, smiling blandly again.

"So you're the passive aggressive sort," Clint said, eyeing Tony as if he was a brand new kind of arrow.

"At least you don't explode into a giant green monster," Bruce said.

The doorbell chimed, ringing throughout the house.

There was brief ominous music for a second from Peggy's corner that sounded like it came from the soundtrack of a horror movie. Spike ruined the mood by suddenly breaking into the chorus of the _Ghostbusters_ theme song.

"JARVIS," Tony said, ignoring their antics (which had broken out into Peggy scolding Spike in a series of beeps and Spike doing a good impression of a sulking toddler that was a coffee machine), "let him in. Show him to the kitchen, would you?"

"Of course, sir."

"You two," Tony called over to the two misbehaving AIs, who promptly froze in the middle of arm wrestling, "keep it down."

"Yes, sir!" Spike resumed the position of an insentient coffee machine, but directly on top of Peggy's stovetop.

Peggy's response was a simple assenting beep before her sink arm retracted to innocently sit next to the faucet and she completely turned off all lights.

Fury entered the kitchen seconds later, eye scanning over all the Avengers. Clint and Natasha were the only two on the side of the table facing him. Thor had moved to stand by the fridge. Bruce and Steve flanked Tony's sides on the side of the table closest to Peggy and Spike.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Tony waved at him with the hand still holding the phone. "So glad you could join us! Coffee?" There was an indignant "No!" from behind him. "Okay, so no coffee. Leftovers?" He waved his cold coffee around.

Fury threw a thick file on the table so it slid in front of Tony. "You brought me in here, Stark. I expect to be debriefed the way it should have been done four days ago." His eyes skimmed over the others. "Do you mind?"

Clint and Natasha gave Fury nods before leaving, glancing back at Tony as they exited. Steve gave Tony a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, leaving alongside Bruce, who'd given him a discreet nod. Thor walked by Tony's back, clapping him once on the shoulder and departing without giving Fury so much as a nod.

Tony waited for Fury to take a seat before he took the file, straightening it. "What should I cover, hm?" He flipped back the top cover, feeling a spike in humming as JARVIS apparently began showing the Avengers the feed from the cameras in the kitchen.

Fury's hands were clasped before him on the table. "Let's start with why you weren't at the X-Men's place for the pickup, but rather chumming it with your girlfriend."

"Hey, bub, if you were jealous of my relationship with Pepper, you just had to say it. Unless you're upset that I didn't entrust you with the codes the way I did Steve. If you wanted codes to the suit, you could've just asked." Tony flicked through the sheets in the file, taking in the questions. The last several pages had one topic: Spider-Man. "It wouldn't have done anything, but I could've rigged it into a nice video game. You like _Spy Kids_, right?"

"Stark—"

"Or maybe I should go with something sleazier than that. _Mission Impossible_, perhaps? They've got some really bad guys in those films." Tony clapped the file shut, offering Fury a cold smile. "Would you care to explain why that organization after my head had a Quinjet when S.H.I.E.L.D. is the only agency other than the Avengers that is in possession of the designs?"

Fury's face remained impassive. "We were hacked," he admitted.

"Oh, awesome. Except for the fact that I already knew that. You know why? Because someone's been a sneaky little bugger and playing where they shouldn't have been. I gave those override codes to Steve. I did not give them to S.H.I.E.L.D. to play around willy-nilly with and to eventually be stolen because S.H.I.E.L.D. is incapable of installing adequate firewalls."

"We were taking precautions. Don't think I haven't noticed you hacking into our systems every other day."

"Did you think about what would happen if you messed with JARVIS like that? You let _amateurs_ mess with _my_ coding. That mess that happened at the tower was because _you_ couldn't keep your nose out of my stuff. No contact with the Avengers? Fine. No contact with _anyone_ because JARVIS's code was epically fucked up thanks to amateurs who can't code to save their lives messing with it? Count yourself fortunate that S.H.I.E.L.D. is still there."

"I think someone is getting in over their heads," Fury said in a low voice, his one eye warning Tony to back off.

"Who?" His voice lifted in confusion. "Are you talking about me? 'Cause I was under the impression that I was just offering you some friendly advice. See, the thing is, I'm one of those guys that sometimes has trouble telling black from white. It's just a big gray area. Or math. Let's go with that. It's all just numbers. And S.H.I.E.L.D. is one big variable that's kind of bugging me, because it just _keeps on _messing up my equations. So take it from a guy who knows how to work the math: Don't be that ugly variable. Be a nice one."

"We still have those codes."

Tony couldn't help it: he laughed. "I don't know if you've noticed, Fury, but I'm a futurist. If something's obsolete, I built something new and better. And those codes you have? They're stone age. Go on and try it." His grin was predatory. "I'd _love_ to see the results. 'Cause I'm not quite sure what'll happen if you do. It might just make all your computers really slow. But it could also permanently crash your entire system." The grin was gone. "So do it. I dare you."

Fury stared at Tony, who stared right back. Cold anger was still pulsing through his system at the thought of Fury messing with _JARVIS_. He could mess with Tony all he wanted. He got fucked over on a regular basis. But JARVIS? He was just lucky that all Tony was doing was taking the Avengers.

Finally, Fury spoke. "A.I.M. – Advanced Idea Mechanics. That's who was after your sorry ass."

"Funny. I would've thought they'd be called the Beekeepers."

"I'd watch your back if I were you, Stark," Fury said, standing up with a screech as the chair slid back over the tiles.

Tony stood up as well, ignoring the twinge in his thigh. "Is that a threat?"

Fury looked at him. "A warning." Then he was gone, leaving the file behind.

Working his jaw for a few moments as he stared at the empty doorway, Tony finally said, "Send a message to his server, JARVIS: I'm not doing his fucking debrief."

"Noted, sir."

"And the others can get back in here now."

As if summoned like Thor calling his hammer, they all piled into the kitchen scant seconds later.

"Remind me never to get you mad," Clint told him. "That passive aggressive thing you've got going on is scary."

"You piss me off daily, Clint."

"No, I _annoy_ you. Fury pissed you off."

"Is that it?" Steve asked quietly, meeting his eyes.

"No." Tony picked up the file, flicking to the end where the questions about Spider-Man were located. "Not yet."

It wasn't over yet, but at least he would have the Avengers behind him.

* * *

It was done. Professor Charles Xavier's new and improved wheelchair of Tony Stark's own personal design was finally complete. It was sleek and shiny, but that wasn't the only thing. It had sensors built into it to read Charles's minute movements and move based on that. It was based off of the systems in Tony's suit, but more refined because there was no JARVIS to help.

It had wheels, but there were also repulsors built into it in case something happened that Charles would need to get away from. There was an emergency button that he could press (or activate vocally) if something happened to incapacitate him. The wheelchair was also capable of simply flying if Charles so wished it, but Tony thought he'd rather prefer to remain on the ground; he seemed like an old-fashioned kind of guy in that aspect.

"Is there some reason you're grinning maniacally like a mad scientist?" Steve asked from the corner. He had a sketchbook on his lap.

"Die!" Spike cackled maniacally from his vantage point at Dummy's workstation. Playing along, Dummy cowered, ducking his head as Spike's cords batted at him.

"It's done!" Tony announced, shutting the compartment he had just finished wiring.

"You're still grinning."

"This'll revamp transportation," Tony said, looking over at Steve. "I know you saw my dad's epic failure of a flying car; this is way better because it actually _works_."

Steve put aside the sketchbook, coming over to Tony to view the wheelchair more closely. "You're bringing it to him today, aren't you?"

"I meant to get it to him a week ago," Tony admitted, tossing the rag he'd wiped his hands on over his shoulder. "But things came up." He glanced at Spike, who was zipping along the ceiling of the workshop with the brand new repulsors Tony had installed in him two days ago. He was making noises to signify firing guns.

Steve was silent, watching Spike as well. "I'm still not sure that was a good idea," he confided.

"JARVIS is keeping an eye on it," Tony dismissed. "I finally managed to get him hooked into the system with the others, so he's got a support system helping him learn."

Steve had a look on his face that made Tony think he was thinking about Peggy, also hooked into the system and still stubbornly obstinate about only letting Steve and Tony use her. She also hadn't stopped dousing Thor with her sink arm every time he came near her.

"Think of him as a toddler," Tony explained, observing Spike roll around on the wall with his wheels. "He's going to grow up eventually. It's in his coding." He'd finally taken a look at Spike's coding and found that Spike was essentially the AI equivalent of a human toddler. That meant he was going to eventually grow up. Personally, Tony was dreading the teenager years.

"Put _that_ way…" Steve grinned wryly. "I trust you, Tony."

"Mommy!" Spike dropped down by Steve, curling his cord in a loose loop around Steve's neck.

"_Clint_," Steve sighed.

Apparently Clint had told Spike that since Tony was his daddy, Steve was his mommy. This was then corroborated with the articles Spike had found on the Internet about the traditional American family. Tony had had JARVIS show Spike same-sex families with two mothers or two fathers, but Spike still stubbornly called Steve Mommy.

"At least he'll let you scold him," Tony offered, leaning over to give Steve a quick peck on the cheek before he went to the sink to depose of his towel. "I'm gonna take a shower before heading over to drop off the wheelchair."

Steve had Spike in his arms now. "Remember we have that date at six."

Freezing momentarily, Tony paused in the action of cleaning his hands before blinking and continuing, drying them with the towel he had appropriated for this purpose. This would be their first date as a couple, though Steve had taken him out before, albeit unknowingly on Tony's part. Tony would admit that he was slightly nervous about this.

"I'll be there," he said, offering a quick smile.

He probably shouldn't bring flowers…

Spike flew by, cackling something that sounded vaguely like "It's alive!" Dummy chased after him, whirring anxiously.

Tony sighed. If his bots hadn't chased Steve off, nothing probably would.

* * *

When the door to the X-Men's mansion opened, Tony had a broad grin plastered on his face. "Hi!" he greeted, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

Scott seemed rather taken aback to be greeted so enthusiastically, though he did step aside to let Tony in, the wheelchair floating behind him. The suitcase armor was resting in the seat.

"The professor is in his study," Scott said, sidling by a clearly manic Tony.

"I don't bite," Tony said charitably, already heading in the direction of the study. Showing off his inventions – especially when they were new and shiny like this wheelchair – always got him a bit excited.

Scott gave a disbelieving clearing of his throat, but didn't say anything.

Charles wasn't alone in the room, as Logan was sitting there as well. The two were bent over something, but looked up when Tony and Scott entered.

"It's done!" Tony began without preamble and before anyone could ask if he was all right. "Would you like the instruction manual or the general walk-through?"

Charles's eyes swept over the shiny new wheelchair, now sitting innocently on the floor (the armor had been taken off to rest by the door). "Perhaps both."

"Sure." Tony set a microphone in front of Charles. "Do me a favor and say this: emergency override Xavier, Charles."

Charles repeated the words and Tony watched the light at the microphone blink green to signify that it had successfully recorded it.

"Hang on a moment." Tony popped in his earpiece, connecting it to JARVIS. "Hey, JARVIS, access the vocal file I just made and link it into the wheelchair. I'd do it myself, but I'd rather not risk messing anything up."

JARVIS sounded distinctly unbelieving. "_Of course, sir._"

While he waited, Tony began explaining the chair's features. "That was your emergency code in case you need to get away. It'll activate the repulsors. You've also got a button on the side here"—he turned the wheelchair to show it—"that'll do the same thing. It's only keyed into your fingerprint, so if you could touch it once before I leave, I'll make sure it works."

"How does it move?" Charles had wheeled out from behind the desk to position himself directly by the new wheelchair.

Tony grinned at this question, eyes lighting up in glee. "It reads your minute body movements and moves in accordance to that. But if you're not entirely comfortable with that, it's also got a manual stick"—he pointed to a small toggle stick built into the armrest—"that'll do the same thing. You can switch it from wheels to repulsors." He demonstrated by pressing something on the inside of the armrest, stepping back slightly as the wheels retracted slightly, only for the repulsors to activate and lift the wheelchair. "You can easily get up stairs this way."

"Can it actually _fly_?" Logan asked, leaning forward as if he could force the wheelchair to reveal its secrets simply by staring at it long enough.

"Of course it can." Tony sounded insulted. He tapped the base of the left armrest, revealing a panel of green light. He sat down on the chair before sliding his fingers over the panel, which turned to blue as his fingers went over it. The wheelchair began to rise until he was hovering above Scott's head. "Just move away from your body to lift and towards to drop." The wheelchair dropped slowly to the ground. "The speed it rises or drops depends on how quickly you brush over the sensors."

"Fascinating," Charles remarked, sounding eerily like Spock.

"Isn't it?" Tony beamed, springing off the chair. He'd abandoned his crutches by this point despite doctor's orders, but wasn't fool enough to strain his leg and rip the wound open. "So, want to try it? If something doesn't work, I can fix it." Leaning over, he pressed the same spot as before to revert the hovering wheelchair back to wheels.

Charles gave an acquiescing nod, and with Scott's help began to move over.

Logan took the opportunity to stand by Tony's side. "All right?"

Tony tilted his head forward. "I've been meaning to thank you for that back there," he murmured.

"Not that I don't like a good fight," Logan dismissed, "but that would've been stupid."

"Probably."

The wheelchair exchange done, Charles began experimenting with it. Tony first had him press his finger on the emergency button and had JARVIS imprint his fingerprint into the wheelchair. That done, Charles experimentally moved without touching the toggle stick. He looked rather surprised when the wheelchair moved without him touching anything.

Tony couldn't help but grin when Charles switched to repulsors, peering over the side to see himself lift off the floor.

"Cool, isn't it?" Tony bounced excitedly, causing Logan to shift aside in an act of self-preservation. "Want to try stairs?"

Leaving the study behind Charles, Tony found himself standing at the foot of the stairs as Charles began moving up them. Scott and Logan stayed back, having learned from Tony's month-long stay that it was better to distance themselves from a manic Tony Stark.

As they watched Charles spin around on the stairs and descend, they were joined by Kitty, Rogue, and Kurt.

"Oh wow." Kitty moved up to stand by Tony. "That the professor's new chair?"

"Yep."

"I'm actually jealous," Rogue commented.

"If all goes well," Tony said, "I'm thinking of moving this to cars."

"Flying cars," Kitty said, impressed. "Count me in."

"I would be most interested in a flying car," Kurt said.

"I'll put your names down."

"They're not driving anything that hasn't been tested," Scott said firmly.

"Relax." Tony glanced back at him. "I haven't even begun designing them. It'll be at least a year before anything's even built."

"What is the power source?" Charles asked from above them, actually hovering ten feet in the air over their heads.

Tony tilted his head back, looking up at the bottom of the chair and directly at the blue light of the repulsors. "A miniaturized arc reactor. Enough power to wipe out part of Central Park"—the others looked alarmed—"but it's perfectly safe." He tapped his own reactor under his sweater. "Got one myself, remember? Yours is smaller, so it's less destructive."

"And how destructive is yours?" Scott asked.

"It depends." Tony shrugged. "Full power, it could probably wipe half of Manhattan off the map. Empty…maybe a quarter."

"And you have that in your chest?" Logan sounded like he was considering Tony officially crazy.

"Powering an electromagnet and keeping my heart going. Not many options other than a car battery." He said the words casually, but a shiver ran up his back as the first memory of realizing he was hooked into a car battery flooded into his mind.

"Why haven't you had it fixed?" Rogue asked. "It's been years."

"I've looked into it." Tony shifted so he was behind the wheelchair as Charles landed on the floor. He began checking the readouts on its performance on his phone, JARVIS feeding it to him. There was nothing wrong according to the humming in the back of his head. "But it's virtually impossible."

A metal tube going down into his chest couldn't just be fit in there. Parts of his rib cage had been cut out and his entire sternum and various muscles removed to make room for it. Then there was the fact that his body had become used to the arc reactor. The last time he'd checked whether it was possible to have the reactor and shrapnel removed, JARVIS had sympathetically informed him the arc reactor was too involved in his bodily functions to be removed.

So for the moment, he was stuck with it.

"It looks good," Tony informed Charles. "You having any problems?"

"It is very simple to maneuver," Charles said. "Thank you, Tony."

Tony flashed him a grin. "Absolutely no problem. I consider it doing a service to my fellow man. Your old one was absolutely pathetic."

"We're keeping it," Scott said hastily.

"Fine." Tony put his phone away, smiling at all of them. "Considering my work here is done, I'll take my leave. I have a date."

"Have fun!" Kitty said, grinning. "Just so you know, you look nice."

He was dressed in a dark sweater and jeans, since whatever place Steve had picked out wouldn't be that formal. "Thanks."

"She means you look smoking," Rogue said bluntly. "Can I take a pic?" Her phone was out and snapping a picture before Tony could answer. "Thanks!" She grabbed Kurt by the elbow, and both were gone in a smell of burnt brimstone.

Kitty was blushing. "Sorry," she stammered.

"I'll get it back," Scott said.

"Don't worry about it," Tony said immediately. "It's fine. She just better have gotten my good side."

There was another shutter click from above their heads and they glanced up, only to see some kids giggling and running away, having escaped with their prize.

"It's fine," Tony repeated.

Logan snorted. "I'm going. See ya, Stark."

"He misses Spike," Kitty whispered to Tony as Logan made his exit.

"Really."

"He keeps glaring at the new coffee machine."

"He could visit if he wants to," Tony said, looking down at his watch. It read five, meaning he should get going if he wanted to arrive at the date on time. It was too late for a car, but he had his suit.

"We'll let you leave," Charles said, smiling at him. "Once again, thank you, Tony."

"Let me know if you have any trouble," Tony replied, nodding once.

"You'll visit, won't you?" Kitty blurted.

Tony grinned. "You bet I will. I'll bring Steve and Spike."

Three minutes later Tony had retrieved his armor and made his way outside. Charles, Scott, and Kitty followed him, standing on the front steps as he set the armor on the ground, about to kick it open when JARVIS spoke into his ear via the earpiece he'd never taken out.

"_There has been a sighting of Spider-Man._"

A click of a button later on his bracelets and the armor assembled around him. When the faceplate slid down, he gave his viewers a two-fingered salute before taking off.

"Give me the address." Tony checked the time, sighing when he noted he was going to be late. "And send Steve a message. Tell him I'll explain when I get there."

The address flickered over the HUD screen, along with the message JARVIS quickly compiled. Approving it, the text was quickly sent off to Steve's phone.

Tony thought he would understand.

* * *

It was lucky that JARVIS had eyes in the cameras of New York, because Spider-Man was no longer in the place where he'd originally been sighted. Instead he was swinging through the skies, zipping by cameras almost as fast as Tony or JARVIS could find him.

But Tony was in the suit, and that wasn't slow by any stretch of imagination. He used the information from the cameras to figure out where Spider-Man would go and headed there as fast as he could.

He got there ahead of time, floating by the clock tower until he could hear the humming that signified the web shooters approaching.

Broadcasting his voice so it carried, Tony called, "Hey, Spider-Man!"

He was gratified a few seconds later when something stuck to the building and Spider-Man flew into view, landing on the surface with all the grace that spiders possessed.

"Iron Man!" The kid sounded flustered.

"Hey, kid." Tony lowered so he was on Spider-Man's level. "Can we talk?"

There was a tell-tale hesitation and Tony quickly added, "Just talk. I don't have anything else up my sleeve."

"Sure. Just lemme get to a better position." There was a whir as Spider-Man released another stream of webbing and jumped up to the top where he could sit. Tony landed next to him, sliding the faceplate back so the kid could see his face.

"I wanted to thank you," he said.

"No prob!" Spider-Man's voice was kind of high-pitched, Tony thought. "Are…are you okay? I mean…there was kind of a lot of blood."

"I'm sorry about that." Tony gave a self-deprecating grin. "I'm fine now. But my friends tell me I owe my life to you."

"Just doing my job." Spider-Man sounded kind of embarrassed.

"I also wanted to thank you for your help," Tony continued. "I would've been in a bind if you hadn't been there."

Spider-Man gave a small shrug. "I was in the neighborhood. It was kind of hard to miss the giant jet sitting on one of the buildings."

"Well, thanks." Tony sobered. "Has an agency called S.H.I.E.L.D. been giving you any problems?"

His answer was a slight head tilt. "I'm not very popular with the cops here, but I haven't seen any weirder people than normal hanging around."

Relief flooded Tony. "Okay, great. Just so you know, if you ever need something, come by either Stark Towers or our home, Avengers Mansion. We can help you out."

"Th-that's not really necessary—"

"I insist. I know you're working solo and I get it, but you have help if you need it." Tony smiled wryly. "You have my number at any rate."

"I couldn't!" Spider-Man's voice was rather high-pitched again.

"Yes, you totally could. I insist. I'd hand you the others' numbers as well, but I don't have any paper on me." Tony raised an eyebrow. "So? I can be very persuasive if you need more to make up your mind."

Spider-Man was silent for a moment, and Tony could almost see the gears turning in the kid's head. He hoped he said yes because that would make it easier for Tony to keep an eye on him. If S.H.I.E.L.D. ever started bothering Spider-Man, at least he would know that he had some sort of ally with the Avengers.

"I'd have to be an idiot to say no to Tony Stark," Spider-Man said finally, standing up. He didn't seem at all off balance on the thin ledge. "So yeah. I guess that's my answer." There was a slight stretch to the mask that made Tony think he was grinning.

"Awesome." Tony held out a hand to shake on it and Spider-Man took it after a slight hesitation. "So if guys in suits start stalking you, you should probably come to us. It'll be S.H.I.E.L.D. and I can take care of that."

"I'll do that."

"Great. Nice talking to you." Tony grinned, closing the faceplate. "See you around, Spider-Man. I've got a date to get to."

"Have fun," Spider-Man offered.

Iron Man's impassive visage nodded at him. "Will do so," was the mechanized voice's response. "Later!"

With that, he shot off, one destination in mind.

* * *

The armor was taken off in an alley and Tony grabbed hold of it as he left for the diner Steve had chosen in the middle of Brooklyn. Entering the small establishment, the hostess gave him a professional nod and smile before leading him to where Steve was already seated.

It was six-fifteen.

"Sorry I'm late," Tony said, sliding into the booth facing Steve. "You got my message, right?"

"I got it," Steve confirmed, smiling. "It's fine." His smile broadened into a grin. "But I'm waiting on that explanation."

"Right." Tony took the menu he was given, Steve doing the same. He started when the hostess left, "So you know Spider-Man—" he cut off when a cheery waitress approached them.

"Hi, my name's Meg, and I'll be taking care of you guys tonight." She was a pretty brunette who didn't seem at all surprised to have two famous heroes sitting before her. "So what can I get you started with?"

"Water for now, thanks," Steve said.

"Same," Tony said.

"That'll be right out." She left.

"So as I was saying," Tony began again, "Spider-Man. I had JARVIS keep an eye out for sightings because I needed to talk with him. Tonight was the first we got anything. It was right as I was leaving the X-Men's, so I left immediately."

"You found him, right?"

"I did." Tony fingered the edges of the menu. "I offered him the help of the Avengers if he ever needed it."

Steve didn't seem remotely surprised. "If I'd met him myself, I would have offered. Did he agree?"

"Yeah, he did." Tony sat back as Meg came over again with two glasses of water.

"You gents ready to order or do you need more time?" she asked.

Tony hadn't even opened the menu.

"What's your specialty?" Steve asked, not having opened his own menu.

"We make a mean burger," she replied, smiling.

"I'll have that," Tony said immediately. You could never really go wrong with a burger.

"Likewise," Steve agreed.

"Anything else to drink?"

"I think we're fine," Steve said, glancing at Tony to confirm.

"Sure thing." Meg took the menus back and left. "Two burgers coming up."

"Everything else's fine?" Steve inquired, shooting a glance at the suitcase armor sitting next to Tony. "How'd the professor like it?"

Tony smiled broadly. "It went great. And I have several potential drivers for that flying car."

That elicited a laugh, which had been his intention.

"By the way," Tony said, "this might be a good time to mention that I forgot to bring flowers."

Steve had a ridiculously fond grin on his face. "Probably a good thing, since I'm not really a flower kind of guy."

"Oh good. Neither am I. Did I mention that I once brought Pepper strawberries and it turned out to be something she was allergic to?"

"Tony." Steve reached out to grab hold of his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It's fine. I love you and that's not going to change because you were late. It was for a good cause."

"It might happen again. The being late thing. 'Cause sometimes I get caught up in my head and I don't realize what time it is until it's five minutes after the appointment—"

"Tony," Steve interrupted, smiling fondly. "Shut up."

Tony shut his mouth. "Shutting up."

"I know you're probably still nervous," Steve continued quietly, "but I'm really serious about this."

Tony cleared his throat, wetting his lips. "Yeah, but…you always struck me as the kind of guy to look for a pretty gal and a white-picket fence."

"That was then," Steve said simply. "This is now. And I'm looking at _you_, Tony. And unless you haven't told me something, you're definitely not a gal. I don't need a white-picket fence as long as I have you."

"So definitely long-term then?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

Steve had a wide smile on his face. "Definitely long-term."

"Long-term." Tony sighed. "That's…that's good. So…" He leaned forward slightly. "…this a good time to ask what we should call each other? I'm waffling between boyfriend and partner. One sounds too teenagey and the other makes it sound like we're business partners."

"We don't have to call it anything," Steve said, leaning forward to meet Tony halfway. "But I was thinking partner sounded nice. Holding hands makes it pretty clear that we're not business partners."

"I love you," Tony blurted. "But I don't really get it. How are you comfortable with this? I know Fury briefed you on significant movements like LGBT rights, but how is it so easy for you? Don't get me wrong – I'm not shy or anything"—as if he could be with his history—"but you grew up in an era where being open about this was a crime."

Steve was silent for a moment, a considering look in his eyes. When he spoke, it was slowly as if he was weighing each and every word. "I never thought it was just about the gender. For me it was all about the person, guy or girl. Not that I could do anything about it," he said, "small and skinny as I was. No one would've taken a second look at me. So it wasn't like I could have relationships. Then there was Peggy, but…" He had a rather pained look on his face. Tony was beginning to regret asking this question, but Steve took a breath and soldiered on. "When I woke up, I never realized how much had changed. When it became clear that it was accepted and allowed…I knew I didn't have to hide it."

"You weren't dating anyone."

"No, I wasn't. The only people I was in contact with were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and you guys when the Avengers started. I honestly hadn't expected to find anyone, considering what my name's become. Then, well…you."

"You hated me when we met." Tony's brow furrowed.

"Hate's a bit of a strong word. I didn't hate you, Tony. I didn't really know what to think of you. I kind of thought you were an arrogant butthead," Steve admitted. "But then when you offered us your house, I realized that wasn't true. Then there were all the other little things you did."

Tony didn't dare to ask what other little things he'd done. As far as he knew, he'd only done his duty as a responsible teammate.

"And the thing is," Steve went on, "you don't even realize it. You don't realize what it is I see."

"I'd say something," Tony said, mouth dry, "but it'd probably be the wrong thing."

"Good idea."

"But I'll say that anyone who didn't look twice at you before you got all juiced up was a complete and utter blind idiot. Because it's not just your body, it's you."

"Love you, too," Steve said, smiling goofily.

Tony frowned slightly, not sure what he'd said to garner that response. "Okay…"

Steve was laughing now.

"You're crazy," Tony informed him.

"Two burgers," Meg announced, setting the plates before them. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you, all right? Enjoy!"

Steve's shoulders were still shaking, laughing silently now. When he looked up, his face held so much fondness Tony almost couldn't look. "Don't ever change, Tony."

Tony pursed his lips slightly, confused. "Okay."

The completely evident confusion in his face and tone were enough to set Steve off into laughter again. Resolutely not pouting, Tony began picking at his burger.

Some people got absolutely no appreciation.

Though watching Steve laughing in such a carefree manner was enough to make up for apparently being made fun of.

* * *

Two weeks after Tony's first "official" date with Steve and two more that he arrived on time for, he and JARVIS were almost done with finalizing the details for separating the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D. JARVIS had finally found the files belonging to Clint and Natasha, which would summarily be erased so that S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer had control over them. That left them ghosts in the official system, but Tony already had a plan in the last stages that would finalize their U.S. citizenship (officially that was). He'd discussed it with them, and they were fine with losing their status as untraceable spies.

At the moment, though, he wasn't doing anything sneaky. In fact, he was being so not-sneaky that he was sitting in Stark Towers for a meeting Pepper had arranged with a genius scientist. He had no clue about the scientist's work, but that was fine because Pepper had given him a file with the order to read it and "For Pete's sake, Tony, be _nice_!"

To which he could only say that he was _always_ nice. Pepper had rolled her eyes and left, leaving him to flick through the file, bored until he began to see what the scientist was proposing.

It was some sort of serum that would link a person into technology. It would've made him think of cyborgs if it wasn't for the description detailing that all it changed was the DNA, rewriting it to a standard of perfection.

It reminded him too much of the super soldier serum for him to be comfortable with it. That might have been why Pepper was having him meet with the scientist, one Maya Hansen. From what it looked like, Hansen already had the funding. She seemed to be looking for a market to sell the serum in once it was completed, as the notes claimed it was almost done.

He'd just reached the page dealing with Hansen herself when the door opened to let Pepper in, leading a brown-haired woman.

"Here's Mr. Stark, Dr. Hansen," Pepper said, smiling her PA smile that Tony had become intimately familiar with. "I'll leave you two to it." She gave Tony a "be nice" look before shutting the door.

Being nice, Tony stood up, offering a perfunctory handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hansen. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." Hansen sat down, looking down at the file laying closed on the desk. "Have you looked at my proposal?"

"Straight to the point, hm?" Tony sat down, one hand on his jacket to keep it straight. "A woman after my own heart."

Hansen opened her mouth, but Tony continued speaking. "I did have a look at your work. Very intriguing. So tell me, Doctor, why Stark Industries?"

"Your work with the Iron Man suit inspired me," Hansen said. "Seeing man and technology work so closely together so that they were almost one had me wonder: Was it not possible to _unite_ man and technology? Not have them separate, but rather as one being working in harmony? That was when my work was begun."

"That was in two thousand and eight. You've already come so far in five years? The impression I gathered was that it's almost complete."

"It is. I've had valuable help. You see, Mr. Stark, I am a biologist, not a computer programmer. And my work is a fusion of the two fields. As such, I needed to seek help elsewhere."

That didn't answer his question. "But why this company? I'm sure there are multiple other companies who would love to get their hands on this."

"Because Stark Industries is revolutionary. You have a vision, Mr. Stark. You look to the future and seek to improve it. Others look only to the present."

"You are aware that we are not a military company."

Hansen's smile was knowing. "I am aware, Mr. Stark. Your announcement was rather widely distributed. Truth be told, you are quite possibly the only mind in the technological field truly capable of understanding my work. And not just the technological side of it; I have heard of your arc reactor."

That hadn't been Tony's work, but he'd certainly become far more intimately acquainted with biology than he'd ever thought he would have to be in the aftermath, what with the palladium poisoning. "I see. So you want me. But what is your goal with this? I'm sure you understand that if you go with this company, the military won't be getting their hands on this."

"I want to help people, Mr. Stark. My work doesn't just unite man and technology. It rewrites DNA to what we know as perfection and beyond. Millions of diseases would be wiped out."

Tony tapped a pen on the table, looking at it as he spoke, rotating his chair slightly from side to side. "I'm going to be blunt, Doctor." He leaned forward. "Are you attempting to replicate Dr. Erskine's work from World War II?"

Hansen answered slowly, "I admit that I was partly inspired by his work as well. But it is not an attempt at creating a 'super soldier'. Unlike the serum, this does not bring a human to the peak of physical and genetic fitness fitness. It simply brings the body to the peak of genetic fitness while integrating it with technology."

Tony flipped the file open to a specific page, tapping a finger on it. "According to what I can see here, your work possesses some self-awareness. Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not in the way you would think. It is simply aware to the point that it can rewrite DNA. After that, it is up to the person."

"So, to summarize, you want Stark Industries because we're top of the line and I'm behind it"—he smiled, which Hansen returned—"you're not looking to sell this to the military, and you simply want to help people." He linked his hands behind his head, giving off a relaxed impression. "I certainly can't tell how many times I've actually wanted to be a computer, but I can't say the same for others. If we go forward with this, it'd be available only to those who can afford it—"

"I would like to make it affordable for everyone," Hansen interrupted.

Tony's eyebrows lifted. "An admirable goal. But you haven't finished this yet."

"It's almost complete," Hansen hurried to say. "The biological aspects have all been completed."

_This_ was what Tony had been going after. He didn't believe that Hansen was entirely altruistic with her efforts. Uniting man with technology provided extraordinary militaristic benefits, and she was just giving that up? There had to be a reason she went to _him_, as he was now infamous for refusing military contracts and doing anything linked to the military (Rhodey didn't count).

"The biological aspect?" he asked.

"The coding is not quite complete," Hansen admitted, dropping her eyes. "The technicians have reached some stumbling blocks, specifically with programming what is needed to be done."

"From the progress you've made, it shouldn't take very long to solve this problem," Tony commented.

"The last six months have been spent devoted to this problem. We have yet to figure out how to solve it."

And Tony got it. "And you came to me. What makes you think I'll be able to solve this problem? And why I would do it?"

Hansen leaned forward, speaking fervently. "You would do it because it would better the world. Your work is decades beyond anyone else's in the field of technology. I am certain that you could have solved this without even looking at the rest of the code."

Tony grinned lightly. "You place a great deal of confidence in my abilities, Doctor. I'm not sure it's deserved."

"Please let me be the judge of that, Mr. Stark. I could use your assistance in finishing my work. Would you be willing?"

"That would depend on a number of factors," Tony said, not outright agreeing. "You know I have a job here."

"I cannot bring my work to you," Hansen said. "But I could bring you to it. You can take a look at it there."

"Well, sure." He shrugged, his smile bland. "I'd have to talk it over with my team first."

Hansen straightened. "Please come alone, Mr. Stark. I know you trust your team with your life, but I have heard that several come from government agencies and one is from an entirely different planet. This is extremely sensitive information."

"I'm a businessman, Dr. Hansen." Tony wasn't smiling anymore. "What makes you think I'd be any more trustworthy than my team?"

Hansen had an answer for this. "Because you understand the value of secrecy when it comes to your work. I saw your meeting with the Senate regarding your technology. I know I can trust that you will not reveal what my work is about."

Tony hummed softly, pressing his fingers together over his desk. He smelled a rat, but couldn't tell what it was without further investigation. And he couldn't in good conscience let Maya Hansen's work continue without him seeing just what exactly was going on.

He dropped his hands to the wood of his desk, interlacing his fingers now. "I'll talk it over with my team. But I will go by myself." He inclined his head. "When should I book my flight?"

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." Hansen smiled, relieved. "Would a week from now be an appropriate time?"

"A week from now – perfect." Tony sat back, smiling falsely – not that she could tell considering how practiced it was. "I'll see you then, Doctor. Send me the details. You have my e-mail."

"Of course, Mr. Stark." Hansen stood up, shaking Tony's hand once again as he joined her in standing. "Thank you for meeting with me."

"Pleasure, Dr. Hansen."

Hansen departed, leaving Tony to sit back down, studying the name on the file:

**THE EXTREMIS PROGRAM**

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**The author hopes you had a pleasant journey to the other side and that no one was injured. Comments, critiques, and complaints are greatly appreciated (and may be considered depending on their type - flames are not accepted, but will provide amusing fodder). Thank you for reading with us today!  
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	2. Part II

**Welcome back to A State of Mental Extremes! The author hopes everyone enjoyed the journey to the wilderness and will enjoy the ride home. Once again, please keep your hands, feet, and head inside the ride at all times and remain seated until the author has turned off the "Fasten seat belt sign", as the ride may get bumpy.  
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**DISCLAIMER: The author owns none of the included franchises.  
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**Part II**

* * *

"I don't like it," Steve stated.

"You don't have to like it," Tony said patiently. "I'm just telling you how it is."

"Yeah, well, _I_ don't like it," Clint said, staring obstinately at Tony from his perch on the living room cabinet. "I smell a rat."

"I smell a cat," Natasha agreed, leaning back against the cabinet where Clint was perched.

"I smell an experiment gone wrong," Bruce input, hip resting against the armrest of the couch.

"I smell this morning's breakfast," Thor added, standing next to the cabinet.

Tony paused, taking that in. "I don't want to know," he finally told Thor. He faced the others. "I'm well aware of what it smells like. It's why I'm going. Whatever's going on, I need to see it. Extremis is a brilliant program, but it holds catastrophic potential. I can't let someone else mess around with it when I knew about it and didn't go because everyone smelled something foul. What if something goes wrong? We could have another Hulk on our hands – no offense, Bruce."

"None taken," Bruce said. "Though if I may add, this sounds worse than the other guy."

"Take one of us," Steve pressed, arms folded across his chest. He was the only one standing directly in front of Tony, staring him down as if he could persuade him that way.

"I can't, Steve. I already told you about what she said. Besides, it's not like I can't take care of myself." Tony tapped the homing bracelets on his wrists. "Even if the armor gets out of my reach, these'll bring it back to me. And if it's destroyed by some chance, JARVIS will know immediately and you guys can come. 'Sides, I'm not helpless without the suit. Not anymore."

"It's a matter of bringing backup," Steve said, "not whether you're helpless."

"If you like, I'll keep in touch every hour. If I miss a check in, feel free to call the alarm."

Steve made a face of distaste. "You forget, Tony."

"Bananas," Clint called, reminding Tony of the time he'd bought bananas no one had touched and as a result had gone black and stayed in the kitchen far longer than he should have kept them. It was only due to the buzzing of flies that they were alerted to the fact.

"Fine, no check ins. Or I'll set an alarm to remind me. But I'm going alone, otherwise this isn't going to work. And it has to work. This reminds me too much of Erskine's work, but infinitely more dangerous. I need to look at it."

"We can infiltrate the location," Natasha suggested.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Tony said dryly, "but none of you are exactly tech savvy. And whatever Hansen's dealing with is definitely high tech. And while I'm a genius, I'm no genius at sneaking into places I shouldn't be in, unless it's electronically. So unless one of you is hiding a genius level intellect when it comes to computers, I'm shooting that plan down. And, no, communicating via earpieces will not work, because anything could go wrong and you'd react too slowly to do anything about it."

"What about JARVIS?" Steve said. "You hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe."

"He knew what it was because I connected him to it. The probe was removed later, but he was familiar with the 'taste' so to speak. That meant he could find it again. But neither of us knows where Hansen is keeping her work because the location is classified. So while JARVIS could technically hack into it, it would take too long because it would mean looking into every reasonably well-protected computer system in the world, and there are a lot."

"And Maya Hansen would still be there," Bruce pointed out. "You have to be there at the source to see what's going on. It took me years to figure out a way of possibly replicating the super soldier serum, and I had earlier work to go off of. This is something completely different; there's no way she could have this almost completed in five years without serious help."

Tony clapped his hands together. "Undercover work. Lovely. If you need it, Steve, I'll have an undetectable mike on me. That way you know everything's either fine or going to hell in a tidy handbasket."

"Why would this be going to hell in a handbasket?" Thor asked, frowning.

"Thor, buddy…" Clint began to explain.

Steve still didn't look happy about what was going on, but seemed to accept that popular opinion was against him. "I'm not happy about this," he said quietly. "But I understand. You'll wear that mike."

"I will," Tony promised.

"And you'll take more hand-to-hand lessons," Steve added.

Tony barely refrained from making a face. Since Steve had found out how bruised Tony usually tended to end up under Natasha's guidance, he had taken over Tony's combat lessons. On the plus side, Tony was learning more than he ever had under Natasha's tutelage. On the negative, he was hitting the mat more than he was generally comfortable with, because what Steve tended to show him were holds to throw the other person to the ground, not actual moves to fight (but that was also taught, just not that often).

"Sure," he agreed.

He knew it was the right decision when Steve's tense frame relaxed slightly.

So he had a week to prepare for this mission, the first without S.H.I.E.L.D. interference.

Awesome.

* * *

So it turned out that Maya Hansen's research was held in Washington (the state, not the city). Tony was almost kind of upset, but Washington was one of the places he and JARVIS would have looked at last because of how remote it was.

He adjusted his suit, running a hand over his tie to check that the mike was still in place. It was woven into the fabric and completely undetectable. It wasn't something he'd released to any agency because of the possibility of it being stolen and replicated (like his override codes).

"Mr. Stark." Hansen flashed him a smile, shaking his hand as he exited the plane. She was accompanied by two other people, a man and a woman in lab coats. "I'm very glad that you were able to make it."

"Of course." Tony's eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses because for once it was sunny in the normally perpetually rainy state of Washington. "So who are your associates?"

"This is the head of the programming department," Hansen said, angling towards a graying man with spectacles, "Thomas Yelksin."

Tony shook his hand. "Pleasure."

"Mr. Stark"—Yelksin's voice was deep—"it is an honor to make your acquaintance."

Tony really couldn't say the same, as he'd never heard of a Thomas Yelksin. He simply smiled in response, thinking that his media smile was going to get a proper workout by the time this visit was over.

"And this is my assistant in the biology department, Sarah Fern."

The blonde-haired woman in a lab coat kept her voice cool as she shook Tony's hand. "Pleasure, Mr. Stark."

"Likewise," Tony answered, taking his hand back and turning back to Hansen, partly hiding his suitcase armor behind his legs as he did. The bright red color signaled to anyone standing near him what it was, but there was no need to push it in their faces. "I hope you don't mind," he said, making a small gesture to the armor. "It was a condition of my coming here."

"Of course not." Yelksin was studying the armor with a speculative gleam in his eye. "I can understand it considering your profession."

"Much obliged. Now," Tony addressed Hansen, "where can I see your work?"

Hansen stood straighter. "Right this way, Mr. Stark."

She led Tony through a gleaming white facility that was largely bare of furnishings. It was nothing Tony didn't expect from a research facility. They passed by labs where he could see people bent over computers or microscopes. The humming he could hear was almost through the roof. Then they reached a room with no one else in it and the only machinery present computers.

Hansen walked directly over to one in the corner, typing onto the keyboard. Tony stood by the side, flashing his patented media smile upon meeting Yelksin's or Fern's eyes. Yelksin smiled back – seemingly more genuinely than Tony – but Fern simply blinked.

After a moment, Hansen stepped back, bidding Tony to take a seat before the screen, which had line after line of coding displayed on it.

"Because of Extremis's nature," Hansen explained, "the entire program is in computer code. That is then used to make the serum that will eventually be injected into the user."

Perched on the edge of the seat, Tony laid an elbow on the table, propping his chin in his hand as he looked through the code.

It was some of the most ingenious coding he had ever seen in his life, not counting his own work. There was a distinct difference between the biological coding and where the actual computer aspect of Extremis kicked in, because Tony found himself simply checking that there wasn't anything outrageously wrong with the former versus actively tweaking the latter in his head.

Not that there was much to tweak. It wasn't until Tony came to the end that he realized that something wasn't quite adding up.

"We have hit a small problem with programming Extremis to rewrite DNA correctly," Yelksin said, seeing Tony's brow furrow. "At the moment, projections show DNA molecules entirely disintegrating, which is quite the opposite of what we are looking for."

Tony gave a noncommittal hum, scrolling back up to see if he could locate where the defunct piece of coding was located.

He could probably fix this in a short amount of time, but that wasn't entirely the point. He'd skimmed over the biological coding, but for all he knew the problem was in there. If it was, he wouldn't know because he was no biologist.

"Well," he said finally, looking up at the three scientists, "there is certainly something missing. I could isolate it, but it will require some time. Would you mind putting up with me for several days?"

"Of course not." Hansen looked relieved. "If there is anything else you require, simply let me know."

"Books," Tony said, glancing back at the computer screen. "Biology books."

He'd learned thermonuclear astrophysics overnight. How hard could this be?

* * *

Three days later, Tony had quite firmly decided that he hated biology with a vengeance. There was so much still unknown when it came to human biology that it was driving him _nuts_. But it wasn't his field of expertise, so it wasn't exactly his problem. Besides, there was enough information for him to be able to understand the biological coding behind Extremis, which had been the entire point behind the whole endeavor.

He was sure that the Avengers had gotten a kick out of him swearing over the books that first night. Thank goodness he'd only needed the one night to grasp the basics; the rest of the time he'd simply referred back to the books for a quick refreshing every time he hit something he was having trouble deciphering.

By the end of the first day, Tony had found that the error lay in the computer side of Extremis. Hansen's scientists had assumed that the same basic programming behind self-repairing robots would work here as well, which was why human DNA kept disintegrating. It was infinitely more fluid and diverse than any self-repairing robot could be (even Tony's own, because they were still _robots_). This would require an entirely different kind of programming than anything Hansen's scientists had made.

But the point of Tony's visit wasn't to actually _fix_ Extremis. It was to figure out just what the program _did_. Because if it was actually helpful in a good way, then Tony couldn't see why it shouldn't be mass produced.

So for the next two days after his overnight crash course in biology, Tony looked at the Extremis code inside and out, dissecting every piece of it. It was extremely complex and even with his new understanding of biology, he didn't think he understood every bit of it. There was this one bit of obscure coding that Tony couldn't make out at all, but didn't dare ask Hansen or Yelksin about because it really didn't have anything to do with what he was looking for (he could tell that much).

What Tony _did_ know about Extremis had him realize that this was something that could be catastrophic if it wasn't used right. Humans injected with the serum would virtually be walking computers, able to link into satellites and computer systems to work them from the inside. Extremis gave them a slightly advanced healing rate because of the improved DNA; it wasn't Captain America's healing rate, but it was nothing to scoff at. There was also a slight boost in strength and quickened reflexes.

In general, it was something that Tony would have killed to have. Because – _hello_ – who _wouldn't _want to be able to work _within_ computer systems with one's head? But now he constantly had humming in the back of his head because of his affinity with electronics. If this was now with a mere affinity, he didn't want to know how much worse it would be if he was an actual _computer_.

While Tony worked, he was checked up on by Yelksin, Fern, or Hansen at periodic points (they also brought him coffee – bonus!). For that matter, Yelksin never really left the room, presumably to make sure that Tony didn't do anything untoward with the program. Tony would have been insulted, but he knew that he wasn't exactly very trustworthy at the moment considering what he was actually here for. So, really, he probably would have been more insulted if he'd been left alone.

But because he was never alone, Tony made sure only to linger over the parts of the program he completely understood. He had the feeling that the parts he didn't understand were something he wasn't _supposed_ to know about.

By the end of the third day, Tony had really looked at everything he could. (And if he never looked at another biology textbook again it would be too soon for him.) His conclusion regarding the program was that it was something both terrifying and awesome – basically like his suit. Tony would feel comfortable if he was the one in possession of it because he knew what he'd do with it, but it wasn't in his hands. It was in Maya Hansen's and he feared what would happen if he left it there.

So should he fix the coding and have SI buy it? Or leave it the way it was and risk Hansen getting someone else on board who could also probably fix it?

JARVIS could potentially wipe the program from the face of the Earth, but Tony wasn't fool enough to think that this was the only copy Hansen had. That left his hands tied.

God, he wished he could talk this over with his team. He had no doubt that Steve would tell him to nuke the plan, consequences be damned. But Natasha and Clint would understand what he was worried about. They'd probably tell him to fix and buy it to make sure the potential consequences of it being misused were lessened.

Bruce was a bit harder to figure out, but Tony thought he would most likely side with Steve considering what had happened with him. Thor was a no-brainer; he'd just fry the whole entire system.

"Goddamn it," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. He was sitting in front of the same computer screen he'd been engrossed in for the last several days.

"For the record," he continued muttering to the mike in his tie, which was untied around his neck, "I don't have a fucking clue what to do. Everything looks bad. So if this all goes south…you guys know I called it first."

"Problem?" Yelksin called pleasantly. "Do you require more coffee?"

Tony was sorely tempted to say yes, but he'd been running purely on caffeine and sugar (because of donuts brought by Yelksin) for the last few days. Steve would not be happy at all. "No, thanks," he said. Leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out before him, he tilted his head back, pinching his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"I don't think I've seen you sleep since you came," Yelksin said, coming over.

Tony dropped his hand, glancing over to the side to see the head technician standing there. "I don't sleep much," he admitted, digging his thumb into the palm of his other hand. It helped focus him amidst the insane humming that was constantly in the back of his head. "Not when there's something like this to look over."

"It is amazing, isn't it?"

"Fascinating," Tony conceded. "This is something I've always dreamed of."

"But unless we're able to fix it," Yelksin commented, "it will never be used. Unless you have figured it out?"

Tony made an impulsive decision. "I'm not entirely sure. Biology really isn't my forte"—the Avengers could undoubtedly testify as to this fact, having had heard his curses over the matter that first night—"and it requires a bit more know-how than what I managed to understand." He smiled apologetically. "Could you please give Dr. Hansen my condolences? I'm sure given a bit more time I could figure it out, but it's high time I get back."

Yelksin looked rather crestfallen. "Of course, Mr. Stark. I'll call her."

While he waited, Tony amused himself with seeing how badly he could make Extremis malfunction (all in his head, of course) and what kind of a program he could whip up that would wipe the entire system and all copies like it regardless of where in the world they were located. It was tricky but possible…

He was brought back to himself (he should really get some sleep) with the return of Yelksin, this time accompanied by Hansen. He stood up to get his blood flowing better.

"Thomas tells me that you haven't found a solution?" Hansen asked, eyes flickering with what could only be disappointment.

"Not yet," Tony lied, shrugging apologetically. He tugged at his tie, absentmindedly redoing it. "The biology is – quite frankly – still over my head. And I haven't found the error in the technological code, leaving it in the part of the coding that I can't understand. Given enough time, I could locate the error, but it's high time that I get back."

"Of course," Hansen said, eyes flicking to a point over Tony's shoulder.

"The error is in the technological code," Yelksin said, frowning at Tony. "There was nothing in the biological code."

"I didn't find anything on the tech side of things, and that's my field. I've been over the whole code a dozen different times by now and I really can't find anything. But if it's in the part that you had a hand in creating"—he nodded towards Hansen—"then I doubt I'd've noticed, as that's not my field of expertise."

"We were _told_ it was in the technological code," Yelksin repeated insistently.

Tony's eyes sharpened. "Who told you?"

Neither answered immediately.

Finally, Hansen smiled rather apologetically. "I am sorry, Mr. Stark."

Cold realization flooded his system, but he barely had time to widen his eyes in alarm before he felt something prick him in the neck.

He whirled, slapping a hand to his neck and snapping the other out to grab hold of Fern's wrist, eyes on the empty syringe held in her fingers.

"Nighty night, Mr. Stark," Fern said, a cold smile on her face.

His eyesight was already going. Fern pushed him in the center of his chest and that little force was enough to send him toppling over onto his back.

The ceiling was swimming. Dark shapes converged on the edges of his sight before he finally lost consciousness.

* * *

It was two days into Tony's absence when Steve was convinced he was fully losing his mind. He couldn't continue listening to Tony hum to himself or occasionally mutter a curse as he worked in Washington without being able to _see_ him. Something about the entire situation was rubbing him in all the wrong ways.

The last time he'd felt like this, Bucky had died.

Steve swallowed, willing the thought out of his mind. Tony was going to be _fine_. They had a constant ear on him and the moment something went wrong, they would be after him. It wasn't like they were helpless.

Sighing softly, he rubbed his forehead, feeling frayed at the edges. It probably wouldn't be so bad, but he hadn't slept the last two nights, too involved in listening to Tony work. Not like he would have been able to sleep anyway, worry for Tony's safety keeping him awake.

Peggy beeped softly at him, making him look up to realize he'd somehow migrated to the kitchen. It was probably instinctive, considering that both Spike and Peggy were in here, both rather subdued considering the atmosphere in the mansion.

"Mommy." Spike flew over to him to wrap a cord around his arm. The little coffee machine sounded miserable.

"I miss him, too," Steve said, wrapping a hand around Spike to stroke a thumb along the top of the glass. "But he'll be back soon."

They'd agreed no longer than three days. That meant he only had another day left before Tony was back.

Bruce walked into the kitchen, zeroing in on Steve. He walked over to him, leaning back against the counter, folding his arms.

"He'll be fine," Bruce said, cutting directly into the heart of Steve's worry. "He's been taking care of himself long before any of us came around."

"Right," Steve said, disbelief coloring his tone. "I've heard tales from Pepper."

"I wasn't much better," Bruce said, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "But Tony knows what he's doing. He's probably enjoying himself judging by the curses he keeps muttering." He smiled wryly. "It's interesting hearing how he absorbs material."

Interesting was one word for it. Steve couldn't believe how quickly Tony had picked up the subject of biology. But judging by the swearing going on during that night, he hadn't enjoyed it one bit. They'd all learned some creative new swear words. Even Clint and Natasha had looked impressed.

"I still don't like it," Steve said, remembering that he'd said the same thing to Tony over and over again. "This whole thing seems off to me."

"I know. But this is admittedly the best shot we've got. I didn't understand half of the information packed in that Extremis file JARVIS pulled up, and that was just the bare bones."

The only thing Bruce had apparently understood was the biological aspect of it and he'd given Tony the little information he'd managed to gather.

"Still don't like it," Steve repeated, earning an understanding smile from the other man.

"Yeah."

The two settled into silence, Steve comfortingly taking Spike into his arms and stroking him. This was oddly like holding a toddler, but harder and less comfortable to cuddle.

The silence was broken with the ringing of the doorbell. The two started and looked at one another, identical questions plastered over their faces.

JARVIS answered it. "Spider-Man is outside."

Jolting upright, Steve put a protesting Spike on the countertop. The only reason Spider-Man would be here was if he needed something.

"Steve?" Bruce asked. "Am I missing something?"

Steve didn't answer, running through the mansion to get to the door. He could hear Bruce after him.

Throwing the door open, he was confronted with a masked red and blue clad figure, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

The moment Spider-Man saw the door open, he blurted, "Iron Man told me that if I needed help, I should just come here. And I kind of need help and oh my God, _Captain America_!" His voice trailed off into a rather high-pitched squeak.

Steve blankly realized that Spider-Man was no more than a kid. And if he'd realized this, then Tony must have as well. But why hadn't he said anything?

It was Bruce who spoke from over his shoulder, seeing that Spider-Man was momentarily speechless and Steve was struck dumb. "Let him in, Steve."

Numbly, Steve stepped aside, eyes tracking the fluid way Spider-Man moved through the doorway and into the building. It was almost too difficult to believe that this was a teenager wearing the costume.

"What do you need?" Bruce asked, subtly elbowing Steve in the side.

Spider-Man's head jerked as if he was coming back to himself. "Ah, well…" The words came tumbling out. "Iron Man told me that if I saw guys in suits stalking me, I should hightail it out of there because apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. is bad news. And I've been stalked for the last two days and this morning a guy came too close to finding out where I live." He was rushing through his words. "And I can't risk it, you know? So I scrammed and now I'm here and I don't know what to do—"

"Calm down." Steve was surprised by how calm he sounded. "It's all right."

Spider-Man's shoulders were heaving and Steve could hear him taking several deep calming breaths. "I'm good," he said a moment later. "Sorry."

"It's no problem. I've done it myself." Steve smiled in remembrance, recalling the way he'd fallen headfirst through a window during a freak out. "Now, we're going to call the rest of the team and we'll take care of this."

"Okay, sounds great!" Spider-Man was nodding a bit too vigorously, but Steve thought that might be adrenaline and nerves talking.

"Should we bring him into the shop?" Bruce asked, referring to the room where they were listening to Tony.

Steve sighed, realizing they couldn't leave the room unmanned. He had no doubt that JARVIS could tell them if something went wrong, but he preferred listening himself, no matter how stressful it was.

Another look at Spider-Man had him making his decision. It was no secret what Tony was doing and he had a suspicion that Tony wouldn't mind Spider-Man listening in. The high tech gadgets on his wrists made Steve think that this was a kid after Tony's own heart.

"Come on," he told Spider-Man, ignoring the raised eyebrows from Bruce.

When the three arrived in the workshop, the others looked up, only to pause at the sight of a costumed hero trailing nervously behind Steve and Bruce.

"Am I missing something?" Clint asked, eyes tracking over Spider-Man's figure. "I didn't know it was Halloween."

"This is Spider-Man," Steve said evenly, pushing Spider-Man forward with a hand on his shoulder. "Tony told him that if something happened, he could come here for help. And something happened."

"You look fine," Natasha observed.

"I find that you do not look much like a spider," Thor said, brow furrowed.

"That's a bit of a long story." Spider-Man's voice was wobbling rather nervously.

Clint's eyes widened. "Holy _shit_! You're a _kid_?"

Any further reaction was cut off as Tony's voice filled the air. "_That piece of code deals with the mysterious appendix? …Stupid makes-no-sense biology…_" His voice faded away as he continued muttering in disgust.

Spider-Man jumped slightly. "What?"

"That was just Tony," Bruce said, going over to the speaker that Natasha, Clint, and Thor were sitting around.

"Cursing to himself like usual," Clint said. "Nothing new. Oh my God." He leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair incredulously. "A _kid_."

"I started younger," Natasha said, sounding unimpressed.

"Why does everyone call me a kid?" Spider-Man sounded petulant.

"Because you are one," was Clint's answer.

"Never mind him," Steve said, throwing Clint a look that clearly told him to please shut up. "Explain it again and in more detail if you can."

"Okay." Spider-Man shifted his weight nervously. "About a week ago Iron Man found me and said that if I ever needed something I should just come here. He also said to watch out for guys in suits because apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. is bad news. And I've been stalked by these guys for the last two days. I didn't get a good look because I was busy getting away, but this morning one got too close to where I live. I had to get away." Spider-Man sounded distinctly unhappy. "I haven't even been able to change! I managed to come here after shaking the guys on my tail."

Bruce snorted. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is persistent, I'll give them that. I'm not surprised they went after you."

"Tony didn't give them the information they wanted on your capabilities," Natasha said. "They must be getting desperate."

"But _why_? I haven't done anything!"

"You're a rogue agent, kid," Clint said, sounding slightly sympathetic. "They don't know if you're a good guy or a bad guy, only that you've been doing some good for now. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't comfortable with unknowns. I know for sure that they have complete profiles compiled on the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, and any other hero or villain they know of. You're still an enigma."

They ignored the chatter from the speaker as someone offered Tony coffee for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Steve was going to have a talk with Tony about that when this was over.

"I'm not gonna tell them anything," Spider-Man said obstinately, stiffening slightly.

"You aren't expected to," Steve assured him.

"Then what am I supposed to _do_?" Spider-Man spread his arms in dismay. "I can't hide forever!"

"What did Anthony tell you when he extended his offer?" Thor asked gently. "Perhaps we can aid you."

"He said he could deal with S.H.I.E.L.D." Spider-Man sounded like he was clinging to this promise with every bit of his strength.

"Tony probably could," Bruce mused, glancing at the speakers. "But I'm not sure how he'd do it."

"Why don't you stay with us 'til he gets back?" Clint suggested. "Then you can see him go all Snape-like on them."

"Clint," Steve said disapprovingly.

"What? It's scary! It's like Natasha when she's mad."

"Do you guys mind?" Spider-Man asked.

There really wasn't anything else Steve could do. He had no idea what kind of plan Tony had concocted for S.H.I.E.L.D. for this event, but maybe JARVIS would know.

"JARVIS?" he asked, looking up at the ceiling. No matter how used he got to JARVIS, he couldn't get rid of the notion that the AI lived in the ceiling.

JARVIS's British tones had Spider-Man jumping again, but this time onto the ceiling where he clung. "I am uncertain as to what Mr. Stark has planned. I could act in his stead, but it would most likely only worsen the situation."

"That lends a whole meaning to the phrase jumping jiminy," Clint commented, peering up at where Spider-Man was clinging to the ceiling with only his fingers and feet.

"It's just JARVIS," Natasha told Spider-Man, "one of Tony's artificial intelligences."

"Oh." Letting go, Spider-Man landed lightly on his feet, crouching down before straightening, his entire posture radiating sheepishness. "Sorry. I'm still getting used to this."

"I can think of several wicked things to do with that," Clint said gleefully.

Steve ignored him, thinking about what he should do. He was guiltily glad to be focusing on something other than being unable to help Tony, but this was important. Regardless, it didn't take him very long to decide that it really was for the best if Spider-Man stayed with them until Tony got back and did whatever he had been planning to do.

"You can stay with us," Steve told Spider-Man.

Spider-Man visibly wilted in relief. "Thank you, Captain."

Steve smiled down at him. "Call me Steve, Spider-Man."

"You can call me Bruce," Bruce said, coming over to give Spider-Man a towel. "Take a shower. I'm sure you could use it. And then you'll be staying down here with us. I don't think you should be wandering around the house."

"I still haven't gotten the itching powder out of my clothes," Clint grumbled.

"Itching powder?" Spider-Man sounded uncertain.

"Don't worry about it." Steve was relatively certain that Tony hadn't hidden anything down here, especially since they hadn't run into anything crazy during the last two days.

And Dummy trying to attach magnets to Thor didn't count.

* * *

By the evening of the next day, Spider-Man had settled in relatively well. He seemed slightly worried about whoever he had left behind, but there wasn't anything he could do about it, considering that S.H.I.E.L.D. had undoubtedly tapped their phones and computers. Other than that, he had shown to have a lighthearted goofy personality well suited to dealing with Clint.

He was also a genius.

Not quite on Tony's par, but he was generally able to tell what Tony had been working on after a short time studying it. He also got on well with Tony's AIs, as he was absolutely fascinated by them and they with him.

Spike had taken well to Spider-Man and enjoyed having someone that could also play with him on the ceiling. For his part, Spider-Man hadn't been too shocked at the sight of a sentient coffee machine and stove. Peggy had been rather peeved at the sight of another person related to a spider and was apparently determined to find a song for him.

At the moment, though, everyone was in the workshop, listening idly to Tony. For his part, Steve found the sound of Tony's breathing to be ridiculously soothing.

Clinging to the ceiling, Spider-Man was using his webbing to play with Spike, breaking the silence with intermittent giggles of glee from Spike and annoyed whirring from Dummy as he tried to clean up the sticky remnants.

They all straightened, though, when Tony began talking into the mike, addressing them. "_Goddamn it._" There was a short pause before he continued talking quietly, "_For the record, I don't have a fucking clue what to do. Everything looks bad. So if this all goes south…you guys know I called it first._"

A chill skittered down Steve's spine. He firmly told his nerves to calm down; Tony was simply telling them that he didn't know what to do. It didn't mean that something was going to go wrong.

Spider-Man dropped to the floor, uncommonly tense.

There was nothing but the sound of breathing for the next minute before Thomas Yelksin's voice broke it. "_Problem? Do you require more coffee?_"

To almost everyone's surprise, Tony's response was a denial.

"_I don't think I've seen you sleep since you came,_" Yelksin said, voice increasing in volume as he seemed to approach Tony.

The words confirmed what Steve had suspected and he wished that he was there so he could force Tony to sleep.

"_I don't sleep much. Not when there's something like this to look over._"

"_It is amazing, isn't it?_"

"_Fascinating. This is something I've always dreamed of._"

"_But unless we're able to fix it, it will never be used. Unless you have figured it out?_"

This was it. Depending on how Tony answered, they would either have to deal with a mess or have a short period of breathing space before everything went to hell. Steve didn't know what Tony would pick, but he would have his back either way.

"_I'm not entirely sure. Biology really isn't my forte_"—Clint snorted disbelievingly, muttering something that sounded like, "No shit, Sherlock?"—"_and it requires a bit more know-how than what I managed to understand. Could you please give Dr. Hansen my condolences? I'm sure given a bit more time I could figure it out, but it's high time I get back._"

There was a pause as Yelksin appeared to absorb what Tony had just said. Then his voice, tinged with disappointment: "_Of course, Mr. Stark. I'll call her._"

Silence fell, broken only with the sound of Tony's absentminded humming. It helped take Steve's mind off the racketing tension in the room, because if Tony was humming, then it should be all right.

The humming broke off and everyone leaned forward in nervous anticipation.

Maya Hansen's voice exited the speakers. "_Thomas tells me that you haven't found a solution?_"

"_Not yet._" Steve couldn't tell if that was a lie or not. "_The biology is – quite frankly – still over my head. And I haven't found the error in the technological code, leaving it in the part of the coding that I can't understand. Given enough time, I could locate the error, but it's high time that I get back._"

"Liar," Bruce muttered just as Hansen said, "_Of course._"

Steve was just beginning to relax slightly when Yelksin spoke again. "_The error is in the technological code. There was nothing in the biological code._"

Tension rocketed up Steve's spine.

There was nothing amiss in Tony's dismissive tone. "_I didn't find anything on the tech side of things, and that's my field. I've been over the whole code a dozen different times by now and I really can't find anything. But if it's in the part that you had a hand in creating, then I doubt I'd've noticed, as that's not my field of expertise._"

"_We were **told** it was in the technological code._" The tone was insistent.

And now Tony's voice sharpened as he seemed to realize something. "_Who told you?_"

There was a nerve wracking pause.

Then: "_I am sorry, Mr. Stark._"

There was virtually no time between the last word and the sharp inhalation of shock that followed.

After another paralyzing moment of silence, they heard an unknown voice finally speak, chilling indifference dripping off every single word. "_Nighty night, Mr. Stark._"

There was the marked thud of a body hitting the ground just as Steve shouted, "JARVIS!"

"On it," was the instant reply.

Natasha and Clint had already gone, presumably to retrieve their weapons. Thor had a hand outstretched, calling Mjölnir to him. Spider-Man had frozen by the speaker. Bruce was sitting on his chair, eyes closed and nose pinched between two fingers; he was breathing rhythmically, doing his best not to Hulk out.

Steve was about to get his uniform and shield when a cold voice spoke again from the speakers, "_Strip him. He undoubtedly has a bug planted on him. Be ready to leave in five minutes._"

Panic laced through his chest, squeezing his heart. Five minutes? None of them were capable of getting to Washington in five minutes.

"JARVIS!"

"Even if the mike is removed, the bracelets are still there. Failing that, I can track all flights leaving from Washington," JARVIS assured him.

Not for the first time, Steve was relieved that his uniform had been stashed down here. It made it simple to strip and then change. He was just tugging down the top when Natasha and Clint arrived downstairs, suited up and armed, preceded only shortly by Mjölnir zooming down the stairs to slam into Thor's hand.

"The plan?" Natasha asked, pulling on her Widow's Bracelets. Steve recognized them as the new ones Tony had just given her before leaving; his throat thickened and he had to tell himself to _calm down_. They would get to him in time.

"We need to get to Washington," Steve said, surprised that his voice came out so even. "We're going to need the Quinjet."

"Hang on!" Spider-Man was crouched on a chair, hands clutching the backrest. "I know you have to hurry, but—"

"He has to come with," Natasha said quickly, looking right at Steve. "We can't leave him here alone with S.H.I.E.L.D. liable to break down the door."

"I can assure you, Agent, no member of S.H.I.E.L.D. would step past the threshold," JARVIS asserted smoothly.

"You've been overridden before," Natasha said.

"There are only two capable of doing so at the moment, and only one is present."

"Speaking of which, we need to go," Steve said. Time was ticking away.

"We have to go onto the Helicarrier to get a ride," Bruce said evenly. "But I don't think any of us are endeared to S.H.I.E.L.D. at the moment."

"We have not actually finished the process of separating the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D.," JARVIS said. "As such, there has been no change in the status quo."

"Okay. So we can go." Clint checked the string on his bow before stowing it on his quiver.

"You'll be staying here," Steve told Spider-Man. "Stay inside. JARVIS can help you if you need it."

Spider-Man didn't sound happy, but he agreed. Spike hovered uncertainly over his head and he absentmindedly grabbed hold of him.

"Let us go!" Thor announced, standing by the large Porsche Cayenne Turbo they typically used.

"I'm driving," Clint said.

There were no arguments from the others as they all piled in, Steve riding shotgun. With a screech of tires they pealed out from the workshop through the door that opened in one of the walls.

Typically when the Avengers answered a call, S.H.I.E.L.D. was the one to pick them up with the Quinjet. This was the first time they were going without being assigned a mission, and Steve was unsure as to the protocol.

"Phone," Bruce said from behind him, handing him a StarkPhone. "Call Fury. This is going to take too long."

Fury's number was already on the screen; all Steve had to do was press the button to dial it.

The director picked up just as the first ring finished. "_I know, Captain. There is a pickup en route._ _ETA one minute._"

The dial tone then rung in Steve's ear. Handing it back to Bruce, he said, "ETA one minute for pickup."

"Damn that was fast," Clint muttered, peering up out of the windshield.

Clint sped to an open area of the street, swiftly parallel parking the car. The car had barely settled before everyone was piling out. Bruce looked rather ruffled for having sat in the middle between Thor and Natasha.

When the Quinjet arrived, it was an act of great will that had Steve not rushing to it before it even touched down. The moment the door opened, though, he was first to climb in.

"Washington," he said curtly.

The pilots didn't respond and the door shut behind Bruce as he entered. Steve barely felt the Quinjet move as they took off into the air.

"Something's wrong," Natasha murmured, standing by Steve's elbow. "This isn't heading towards Washington."

"HQ," Clint said shortly from Steve's other side, voice agitated.

Bruce was huddled by Thor, face blank as he was still employing whatever meditation technique he was using to keep calm. For his part, Thor remained a solid pillar of strength by the smaller man, reassuringly stoic.

Steve couldn't say the same. He'd settled into an odd sort of numbness that seemed to forebode some sort of breakdown in the near future if this didn't work out.

Natasha cursed under her breath in Russian, heading towards Bruce to begin muttering something to him. The scientist paled for a moment before nodding, face set.

"You trust us, yeah?" Clint asked Steve, eyes tracking Natasha.

"Yes," Steve said, looking over in confusion.

"Just checking."

Steve wasn't able to ask why he'd been asked, because it was at that moment that the Quinjet made it to the Helicarrier.

"What's going on?" he demanded, standing directly behind the pilot on the left side.

Neither answered, but they did land the Quinjet. When the jet opened to let them out, Steve was strangely glad to see Fury standing there, coat waving in the stiff breeze.

"What are we doing here?" he demanded Fury, marching to stand in front of him. "I said we needed to go to Washington!"

"I am aware, Captain." Fury's voice was calm. "I already have men on it. You need to be debriefed of the situation. It's a bit more complex than what any of you could have expected."

"You have men on the situation," Steve repeated, unsure of whether to believe Fury. This was the man who had sent him on a mission to Asia while telling him that Tony had been "informed of the situation and agreed that there was no need to come."

"Yes." Fury's eye scanned over the Avengers standing by Steve. "Follow me, Avengers."

They were led to a debriefing room, where Fury handed them all files.

"The Extremis Program," he began before they'd opened them, "was something we were made aware of when Maya Hansen first began working on it. It was classified as another attempt on the super soldier serum, and as such it was registered through the government. It was something we checked on periodically, but we hadn't expected it to come to a head so soon. When the doctor approached Stark about selling her work through his company, I knew it was time."

"Oh my God." Bruce sounded strangled. He was looking down at the file in his hands, ashen.

Steve wasn't paying attention, looking numbly down at the single sheet of paper that consisted of the entirety of the file. It detailed that Hansen was collaborating with A.I.M. for the development of Extremis. At the bottom was a cold clinical phrase in bold:

**Fatality rate: 98%**

"Extremis is a virus," Fury continued. "It works on the body's cells, rewriting them to its own version of perfection. DNA is rewritten. In essence, the subject becomes a computer. All test subjects have either died or gone insane. The problem Hansen brought to Stark's attention was only the root of the matter. Humans aren't designed to be combined with technology. It's a grand dream, but in the end that's all it is."

"A.I.M.," Steve said, mouth dry.

"The organization after Stark. You saw one of their bases not long ago since HYDRA is a branch of it. Put simply, A.I.M. is an organization made of the best technological minds in the world that were displeased with their former positions and thought they could do better."

"So a bunch of nerds with issues," Clint summarized, glaring down at the file he held in disgust. It was dropped on the table with a thump.

"But why Tony?" Steve asked.

"Unclear at this point," Fury said, his arms folded. "But what is important is that you can_not_ go after him."

His breath caught in his throat. "_What_? Why not?"

"He's a liability."

"A _liability_?" Steve sounded outraged even to his own ears, but the cold fury he could feel pounding through his veins couldn't even compare.

"He's reckless and disobedient. Don't tell me you haven't noticed, Rogers." Fury was distinctly disapproving.

_ "I'd watch your back if I were you, Stark."_

_ "Is that a threat?"_

_ "A warning."_

"You _planned_ this?" Steve accused.

"Of course not. But the fact is that it's happened: Stark has been taken. I have men looking for him, but I'm not sending you after someone who can't even keep his head out of his ass long enough to follow orders."

Steve couldn't speak. Words were choking in his throat before he could even voice them.

Oh God…_Tony_.

He didn't think Fury would bring Tony back. If anything, his men would probably just kill him because that would be easier. And Steve couldn't let that happen. He _couldn't_.

He didn't know what he'd do without him. He'd promised Tony "long-term", and if he couldn't even keep that promise when he'd broken so many others, what use was this body of his?

"I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with your orders, sir," he finally managed to say, staring evenly at Fury. "I can't do that."

Fury studied him for a moment before sighing. "I thought you'd say that."

As if on a signal, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents marched in, flanking each of the Avengers. Steve was about to knock them to the ground when he saw the guns in their hands. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Thor hesitate, his eyes flashing over to Steve for guidance.

Steve looked up accusingly at Fury, unable to act with guns turned on him. His suit was bulletproof, but that wouldn't help him if someone shot him in the neck, jaw, or at one of the other less protected Avengers. "Why are you doing this?"

"I think you'll understand a little better after you've had some time to cool down," Fury said simply.

There was a scuffle on the side, and Steve turned to see one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents try to tranquilize Bruce. Thor covered him, and then Natasha yanked the gun out of the man's hands.

"Director, let us watch over Banner," she said smoothly, one hand clamping down on Bruce's arm. "Tranquilizing him will only make it worse when this is over."

Clint flanked Bruce's other side, face stony.

Fury studied the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, his face giving nothing away.

Steve could barely think, sudden betrayal flooding his system. Then he remembered Clint's words: _"You trust us, yeah?"_

Clint had known even then that Fury would try to pull something like this. And so had Natasha, and she had told Bruce, which was why he wasn't looking anywhere close to hulking out. Thor was apparently also in the know, having been standing next to Bruce when Natasha had told him.

"Fine," Fury said finally, nodding at the agents surrounding the three Avengers. "Keep them together. Isolate Captain Rogers and Thor."

"You will regret this, Director," Thor warned, his eyes hard.

"You're a prince, Thor, soon to be king. I'm sure you understand the necessity of sacrifices."

Steve said nothing as his shield was taken away, but he continued to glare at Fury. Then he was grasped firmly by the elbows, the guns still in eyesight an obvious warning.

The numb feeling pervading his body was giving way to something that tasted heavily of despair.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he came to himself was that his mouth was unusually dry. The second was that the constant humming of technology normally around him wasn't there anymore. It was gone. It was that more than anything that had him struggling to sit up in alarm.

Even the nausea making his stomach roil wasn't enough to dissuade him, and he eventually managed to sit up straight, black spots in his sight.

There was no humming. He hadn't realized how used he'd gotten to it until it was suddenly gone.

Reaching out mentally to lift the bed he was sitting on, Tony was further alarmed when it didn't budge. Not only that, he couldn't even _feel_ it the way he'd been taught to during his time at the X-Men's.

This was getting worse and worse.

It had to be a drug. A drug that suppressed the gene in mutants. There was no other way to explain this.

Just as a still rather woozy Tony had determined this, he heard the click of the lock and jerked his head up, cursing to himself as he realized that he hadn't even taken in his surroundings. Standing up shakily, it was instantly clear to Tony that he wouldn't be able to throw a decent punch, let alone fight his way out of here.

He was going to have to wait until an opportunity arose. Or for the Avengers.

Glancing down showed that his homing bracelets were gone. Oh _shit_.

"Mr. Stark." Hansen's quiet voice made his head snap up again (he _must_ be drugged if he was losing focus like this).

"Dr. Hansen." His voice was cool and he straightened, keeping his face impassive. "What a lovely but entirely expected surprise."

"I apologize for this," she said.

"You must not be very sorry," Tony said, enjoying the minute flinch he got for that, "considering that I'm even here in the first place."

"It wasn't my choice."

"No, you just went along with it like a good girl," Tony drawled, shifting to fold his arms across his chest. As he did, he noted that he was dressed in a too-large shirt that showed every detail of the arc reactor and rather papery pants that thankfully were a bit more opaque. "So tell me, Hansen, what's the deal? Why am I here?"

Hansen stepped aside to let in a man dressed like a beekeeper.

Well, that answered one of Tony's questions: Who was behind this? Answer: A.I.M. (They really needed to get new uniforms.)

Tony said nothing as the man took him roughly by the arm, pushing him forward through the door of his small cell (it was really more of a room, but one that was absolutely sterile and bare of furnishings aside from the bed and what looked to be a toilet and sink; hence why it was called a cell). His eyes stared accusingly at Hansen while he passed her, though she kept hers fixated on his shoes (which were these cheap Velcro shoes that he would ordinarily never touch – let alone wear).

The beekeeper guy carted Tony through the building, which appeared to be relatively high tech and underground if the lighting was any indication. Once again, like the last time he'd been given the tour of his kidnappers' housing, Tony took notes of the route they went on. Not that it helped him much, considering he couldn't even tell which way the exit was.

Eventually the beekeeper guy led Tony to a big cavernous room that had a giant screen traversing the far wall. In front of it was what appeared to be a large lump sitting in a floating chair.

Tony barely had time to wonder what it was that he was looking at before a deep rumbling voice said, "Anthony Edward Stark, also known as Iron Man of the Avengers, and previously called the Merchant of Death. Prefers to be called Tony by his friends. Considered a genius by all, even his enemies. And unknown to most, also a mutant."

Wha – how did this thing know he was a mutant? That was classified information hidden in S.H.I.E.L.D. – oh. Right…ridiculously easy to hack into.

The chair turned around, revealing the ugliest thing Tony had ever seen in his very eventful life. It was – to put it simply – a giant mutated head on top of a very tiny body. The eyes were pure white slits and set widely apart, the mouth grotesquely stretched across the thing's face, and the nose relatively normally shaped. Slick black hair sat on top of the thing's head, framed by something that resembled a crown.

"Do you like my drug?" the thing asked. "A clever little thing, designed to suppress that troublesome gene. You are effectively powerless for the foreseeable future, Stark."

Tony was wondering if he was still back in his cell and insanely doped up on whatever it was muffling his telekinesis. This couldn't possibly be real.

But then Thor and Loki and the Chitauri came to mind and Tony thought it might just be real after all.

"Good to know," he said, noting that the thing hadn't said _when_ the drug wore off. "Now, you seem to know all about me. Care to return the favor?"

"I am M.O.D.O.K.," the thing said.

"I did mention I'm not a biologist, right?" Tony said, seeing Hansen shift herself from the corner of his eye. "I can't help you, Modok."

"I am a Mobile Organism Designed Only for Killing"—oh, it was an _acronym_—"Stark. Do not think that you can help me or that I would want you to."

"Then why am I here? I can already tell you I don't make for a pretty statue. I'm too noisy and can't sit still."

"Extremis," M.O.D.O.K. growled.

"I already said," Tony said, "I can't do it. I don't understand the biological code—"

"It is in the computer code," M.O.D.O.K. interrupted. "Do you think me a fool, Stark? I am a genius of my own caliber"—Tony found that horrifyingly easy to believe—"and I do not take kindly to being made fun of. You are no fool, Stark. You know where the error is and can undoubtedly fix it."

"You know where it is," Tony retaliated. "I find it difficult to believe that with brains like yours you couldn't figure the solution out."

"I do not program computers. You do. You are the topmost mind in technological engineering, including computer programming."

"I'm honored that a guy like you knows so much about me."

"Enough." M.O.D.O.K.'s voice was threatening. "You will do it, Stark."

"Sorry." Tony straightened, giving the guy his best "go fuck yourself" expression. "I don't negotiate with terrorists."

There was no warning before his head suddenly split open into piercing pain. A half-strangled cry of pain tore its way out of his throat before he could stop it; his knees gave way to collapse on the hard floor.

His hands flew up to clutch at his head, not that it helped with the agony of feeling like his brain was about to burst in his skull.

Then as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone, leaving him gasping for breath and his head ringing in the sudden absence of blinding screaming pain.

"I could leave you a drooling mindless mess on this floor if I so wished it." M.O.D.O.K.'s voice had him looking up, eyesight wavering with the strain. "What will your answer be?"

Tony had no doubt that being left a vegetable would be infinitely worse for Steve than if he were dead. At least if he were dead Steve could move on. He didn't think Steve would be able to do so if he was still alive but incapable of responding.

"Fine." His voice was hoarse. "I'll do it. But I do it _my_ way."

There was an ominous growl before Tony added quickly, "You came to me, M.O.D.O.K. _Me_. Out of the hundreds of other genius computer programmers on the planet, you came to the one on a superhero team. That means you need me. So you can threaten me all you like, but leaving me a drooling vegetable on the floor won't get you what you want. Either you let me do it my way or I won't do it at all. I'm pretty sure I can manage to still annoy you regardless."

There was a breathless second where Tony wasn't sure that his assumption was right (chances were it was, but still). Then M.O.D.O.K. heaved a great sigh, visibly grinding his teeth.

"Very well, Stark. Hansen will set you up."

"I'm sleeping first," Tony said, pushing himself to his feet. His knees were shaking slightly. "A couple of hours of being knocked out because of some drug is not enough. I haven't slept for the last three days."

"Fine." The answer was a growl. "You start in the morning."

Tony exhaled softly in relief as the beekeeper guy grabbed him by the arm and led him out. He ignored Hansen, instead concentrating on staying upright. Exhaustion and the last remnants of the psychic pain M.O.D.O.K. had struck him with were leaving him shaky and weak.

Hopefully he'd bought enough time. He had to have.

* * *

For what remained of the night, Tony intermittently slept and mentally mapped out the program that would wipe Extremis off the map. If he managed it right, it would wipe out all copies of Extremis everywhere. Even copies on external hard drives would be taken out the moment they were plugged into a computer.

He didn't focus on fixing Extremis, as that was something he could do on the fly. He needed to be able to write this particular kill program out even if he was distracted or under duress (or both). And to do that he had to make sure every single variable was hammered out and engrained in his mind.

When the door to his cell was finally unlocked to let in another one of the beekeeper guys with some gruel that could barely be called food and the most horrible coffee Tony had ever tasted, he was slightly manic, running on the last remnants of his strength. Regardless of what happened, this was going to end today.

Hopefully the Avengers would show up, but Tony kind of doubted that would happen. For one thing, he didn't have his homing bracelets anymore. For another, they had undoubtedly taken his suitcase armor elsewhere. And that was if they hadn't activated the self-destruct sequence by trying to access it.

All in all, that left him completely and utterly screwed unless he could somehow get an SOS signal out. And that was something that would raise red flags everywhere in this organization because M.O.D.O.K. wasn't going to leave him _that_ unsupervised.

By the time Tony had managed to choke down the truly awful tasteless gruel and the horrible coffee, he had Hansen and another beekeeper guy (it could've been the same one for all he knew) waiting outside the cell for him. Both took him to a Spartan room where there was a desk, a chair, another chair besides it, and what was the ugliest and saddest computer he had ever seen. It probably still used Windows 98.

Tony turned to Hansen, brushing off the beekeeper guy as he did. "Privacy," he snapped. "I can't work with people looking over my shoulder. Sitting to the side is fine if you can't leave the room, but no one is looking over my shoulder at what I'm doing." He knew that his work was going to be monitored remotely, but that would give him some time to be able to do what he had to.

"All right," Hansen said, nodding to the beekeeper guy and a few others that marched in to rearrange the desk the computer was on.

"And I need it to be interactive," Tony said. "I refuse to work on this outdated piece of junk."

Hansen looked rather perplexed. "Interactive?"

"Your leader sits on a floating chair that looks an awful lot like one of my designs. I'm sure he knows what I'm talking about." Tony arched his eyebrows, looking up at the camera in the corner of the room.

This time it took a few more minutes, but when the men returned, it was with two of the interactive screens that S.H.I.E.L.D. had on its Helicarrier. It was better than Tony could have hoped.

"Awesome." Tony clapped his hands together, going over to the one on the left to start it up. "Great job, gents. Now a privacy screen would be terrific."

He kicked the chair Hansen would be sitting on over to the side of the desk, making room for the dark gray privacy screen that two beekeeper guys erected before they shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

Tony sat down, beginning to pull up what he would need to work on Extremis. There was a file in the corner that he opened, loading up the code for Extremis. "Have a seat, Doctor. To the side if you will."

Hansen stepped sideways to the chair, sitting down. The movement put her out of Tony's sight.

Scrolling through Extremis's code, refreshing himself on what it was made of, Tony began mentally drawing up solutions to the problem of the disintegrating DNA.

Hansen's soft voice drew part of his attention. "When did you figure it out?"

"The first day," Tony replied absentmindedly. "Rather simple if you know your stuff, and your people didn't."

The screen on the right was blank and ready for him to begin brainstorming. He isolated the piece of coding causing the problem and threw it over to the right, where it blinked in guilty shame.

Shaking his head slightly, blinking as he rubbed the back of his head, messing up his hair as he did, he tried to ignore the silence ringing in his head. The space where the humming usually resided was horribly empty, and he tried to fill it up with his wipeout plan for Extremis, leaving it to run in the background while he worked on fixing the program.

"You lied," Tony said suddenly, fingers flying through the process of coding.

"I'm sorry?" Hansen sounded confused.

"All that talk about wanting to help your fellow people, and you really were looking to create a new breed of super soldier."

"It's necessary," Hansen said fervently. "Don't you see? It's for protecting our country."

"It doesn't stop there," Tony said quietly, remembering his own justification for continuing to design and sell weapons. Then he had seen the horror of what was being done with his legacy. "Yes, America will use this. And it might even work. But how long until your work is stolen by the other side? Before you know it, you'll have armies of super humans fighting against each other. Is that what you want?"

"It won't happen."

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Do you really want to take that chance? You've thrown your lot in with a terrorist organization. What do you think they'll use your work for?"

"A.I.M. seeks to better the world."

"That's what they all say. You know, I was in the same position as you, convinced my work was helping protect American soldiers. It took shrapnel in my chest for me to see that I was just making it worse, and I'm still working to repair the damage. If you're wrong, are you ready to have the deaths of millions on your conscience, Doctor?"

Hansen didn't respond.

Moving on, Tony laid the final touches to his first draft of the code. Then he ran a simulation, waiting as it calculated what the results would be.

Several minutes later a beeping noise chimed its completion. Tony skimmed through the readouts, glad to see he was on the right track. Instead of being completely disintegrated, it was now only half disintegrated.

He was going to stretch this out for as long as possible before he had the solution nailed and needed to quickly put in the extermination program. He couldn't slip it into Extremis; M.O.D.O.K. would undoubtedly notice its presence. It would have to be separate.

If it were just himself he was worried about, Tony would already have put the program in. But it wasn't. He had to think about Steve. It would be an unnecessary risk to jump the gun before the Avengers had enough time to find him. Either way, the extermination program would wipe Extremis out, fixed or not, so it didn't matter if Tony aided the enemy for this small period of time as long as he managed to fix it afterward.

He'd lied to Steve when he'd promised he wouldn't put him through another near death scare, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to _try_.

Finger tapping on the screen, Tony began running another simulation. This time the DNA held together, but it still wasn't doing what Extremis was programmed to do. He could mess up here, pretend he wasn't sure what to do, but he had the feeling M.O.D.O.K. would know it was a lie.

Exhaling slowly, Tony checked the clock. It had been several hours since he'd begun. Had he bought enough time for the Avengers? Fury knew it was A.I.M. after him; that would narrow down the number of areas in the world he could be in. But they couldn't teleport and while the Quinjet was capable of going supersonic, it couldn't go from one end of the world to another in less than an hour. It would take half a day to get from America to Asia, maybe less if Clint flew recklessly, and that was if Tony even was in Asia. He could be in Antarctica for all he knew (though he definitely wasn't, because that would take longer than the few hours he'd been out for).

He couldn't linger too long; M.O.D.O.K. would know if he was just thinking or actively wasting time.

Breathing shallowly, he began working on the final bit of coding that would fully bring Extremis into working condition. He had to trust that he'd be able to wipe this out when M.O.D.O.K. realized he was done and fetched someone to get him. He would probably be killed; he knew too much about Extremis to go free.

It took far less time than he'd thought it would take before he was running the simulation again. He waited with bated breath for the results.

**SIMULATION SUCCESSFUL**

His breath left him in a loud gust of air.

Then he was moving, cutting the remote monitor's view of his screens and writing the program that would wipe Extremis off the face of the Earth.

The clock was ticking and he was rushing through his work, mind racing ahead of his fingers.

Hansen hadn't noticed anything. Why would she? He wasn't acting out of the ordinary. He was simply programming her baby's death the same way he had programmed its cure.

There was what sounded like a murderous scream of rage from somewhere nearby.

Almost _done_…

The last few bits of code went in as the door flew open and he pressed RUN seconds before hands yanked him back onto the floor, pinning him there. He could see feet before the desk, but knew that it would be impossible to stop the program now that it had been implemented.

"I can't stop it." Yelksin's voice was hoarse.

"What?" Hansen was standing by Yelksin. "What's wrong?"

Yelksin rounded on her. "You were sitting right there!" he accused. "How did you not notice what he was doing?"

"There was nothing to see! I thought he was working until you came in. _What did he do_?" she demanded.

"He – Extremis…he destroyed it!" Yelksin seemed incoherent with fury.

Hansen seemed speechless, though Tony suspected there was a storm brewing.

A moment later the heavy weight on top of him was gone, only for rough hands to grab him by the arms and haul him out of the room.

He was dragged only a short way before his head split into blinding pain. Half-strangled incoherent sounds of pain wrenched their way out of his throat, the pain too blinding for him to do much more than that. Then it spiked, and he was full on screaming.

It subsided partially when the men dragging him dumped him on the ground, but didn't disappear. He curled up in a ball, hands ineffectively clutching his head. He was probably whimpering, but couldn't be sure.

There was this horrible voice echoing through his head. "What did you _do_, Stark?"

M.O.D.O.K. stopped attacking his head long enough for Tony to come back to himself, breath coming in harsh pants.

"It's gone." Even wracked with leftover pain, Tony managed to sound triumphant. "You can't get it back. I told you, M.O.D.O.K., I don't negotiate with terrorists." He managed to push himself up on his elbows, smirking up at M.O.D.O.K.'s ugly visage. "And when my team comes, you're going to be one sorry ugly son of a bitch."

"You are under the presumption that your team will find you. It is false." M.O.D.O.K.'s voice was vicious.

Pain whited out Tony's senses, and he cringed, groaning softly.

"What is more, Extremis has not been wiped out. I calculated the probability of you programming something like this to be over ninety percent. As such, I prepared for it."

Even through the pain pulsing through his head and now radiating through his body, Tony could feel the sickening despair. He'd risked himself for nothing. What was more, he had given them a perfected Extremis.

"But don't worry." M.O.D.O.K.'s tone was sneering. "You won't have the presence of mind to care."

The pain rocketed and he was no longer able to tell which direction was up or down. He was probably screaming, but he couldn't tell. Finally, blessedly, he fell into senselessness.

* * *

Coming back to himself _hurt_. He was no longer actively being attacked, but his overstrained nerves continued to shoot pain down his spine and into his extremities. Muscle twitches and spasms occurred without his conscious will.

Fear bolted down his spine when he realized he was completely and utterly helpless. For whatever reason, he wasn't a drooling vegetable, but this was almost worse because he was fully cognizant and aware of what was happening.

Then Tony realized that someone else was beside him. He struggled to open his eyes, only to find that his eyesight was too blurry to see much. Making out a blurry dark shape by him was about the limit of what he could see.

He tried to say something, but found the action of speech still beyond him.

"You were right," Maya Hansen's voice washed over him.

Tony's eyes closed in relief, but then he found he couldn't open them again. His arms twitched as a violent bolt of pain jolted through the muscles.

"It isn't worth it. I've seen M.O.D.O.K.'s plans for my work, and you were right."

Tony wished he could say something, but he was effectively mute. His back arched as a full body spasm worked its way through him.

Hansen breathed softly for a few moments. "I apologize for this, Mr. Stark," she said finally. "But perhaps this will help alleviate some of the damage I have done."

There was a click, loud in the silence of the room.

Then something was stabbed into his arm, hissing as liquid contents were injected into his bloodstream.

His eyes flew open just as blinding agony ripped its way through all his senses.

A scream was torn out of him shortly before his overtaxed body dropped him back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Steve spent an interminable hour in an isolated cell, panic, worry, and despair gnawing at his insides. He'd taken his cowl off to repeatedly run his hands through his hair. When that didn't work to calm him, he paced back and forth, terror for Tony and anger at Fury pounding through his veins, though the terror won over by a large margin.

Cool down? How could he _cool down_? He had no idea where Tony was, suspected that he would be killed as soon as Fury's men found him, and couldn't go after him because he couldn't put his team at risk for one man, even if he loved him.

_Tony_…

His mouth was dry with panic and his breath was coming too fast. It was taking considerable focus to ensure that he wouldn't hyperventilate.

Not for the first time, he focused on a spot on the wall to calm himself down. He considered punching it, like he had a dozen times before, but he didn't want to risk the broken hand; he would still have to use it.

Exhaling sharply, Steve rounded on his heel, only to freeze when the door to his prison slid open, the hallway beyond it clear.

There was absolutely no reason for the door to be open. Not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was in sight. He crept to the door to double check, found it clear, and promptly jumped when JARVIS's British tone filtered into the air.

"Captain, please follow the lights."

"Wha – JARVIS?" Steve was pretty sure Tony had never installed JARVIS into S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Time is running out, Captain. Please, follow the lights."

Seeing the lights in the hallway to his right flicker, Steve set off in that direction at a jog. He passed several rooms, taken aback when he saw S.H.I.E.L.D. agents locked behind the clear doors, visibly agitated.

He took several corners before nearly running into Clint, Natasha, and Bruce, all looking rather confused as well. Then Thor came, swinging Mjölnir in his hands. He brightened upon seeing the others.

"Inside are your weapons," JARVIS said, opening the door they had converged in front of. "Head for the flight deck when you have retrieved them."

Although still confused but by now also relieved, Steve immediately grabbed his shield when he saw it, seeing Natasha pull on her bracelets and Clint picking up his bow and quiver.

Then they ran through the Helicarrier to the flight deck, coming across absolutely no resistance as doors slid open before them and closed after. They could hear shouting and pounding, but not a single person went after them.

"The Quinjet is open and ready," JARVIS said briskly just as they were approaching the flight deck.

"No fucking way," Clint breathed from behind Steve.

He probably wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't for his enhanced hearing.

Sure enough, a Quinjet was up and ready to be used, doors open and engine rumbling. They sprinted into it, only to come to a stop when they realized who was piloting it.

"Hey, guys!" Spider-Man quipped, pushing buttons and pulling on the steering wheel. "Buckle in, since we're going to be taking off!"

"_Spider-Man_?" Clint sounded strangled. "How…?"

"How did you help JARVIS take over S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe?" Natasha asked notably more calmly.

Spider-Man was already gearing the jet for takeoff. "Oh, I didn't. He told me I should hitch a ride on the suit"—he waved a hand to the side, where everyone noticed a model of the Iron Man suit standing—"and once I got here he told me that I should get the Quinjet ready for a quick getaway. I've never flown one of these before, did you know?"

"Never," Clint bit out, falling into a seat as they hit a bout of turbulence promptly after lifting off of the Helicarrier's surface.

"Sorry," Spider-Man called.

Clint sped over to the pilot's seat. "Okay, budge over. Let me take the wheel. Natasha, you're my copilot."

Spider-Man got off just as Clint swiftly slid in, smoothly stabilizing the Quinjet as he did. Natasha took the seat by him, flicking several switches.

"So, uh," Spider-Man began, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "I know you guys told me I should stay back, but JARVIS said everything was going bad so I was needed. The suit was his idea."

"I don't understand," Steve said, feeling stupid. It might just be because he was absolutely dizzy with relief, unable to think past the realization that they were _out_ and could go after Tony.

"I don't either," Bruce said, and Steve instantly felt better.

"JARVIS?" Natasha asked, not moving her head.

There was a crackle from the intercom and then JARVIS's voice entered the small space. "I hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe to view the camera feed."

"That doesn't explain the rest of it," Clint said. "You were controlling everything."

"I am inside S.H.I.E.L.D.," was the simple answer. "They cannot do anything while I have control. I apologize for the delay, but it was not a simple matter."

"Not simple?" Clint's knuckles were white. "You infiltrated and controlled the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. in an hour. When was Tony going to tell us he created Skynet?"

Steve blinked, not quite sure what the reference was, but knew that it wasn't positive. He hadn't yet watched all the films Tony had wanted him to see, although they were slowly going through the long list. At last count, he'd watched the original _Star Wars_ movies. Tony had refused to show him the newer ones, but Bruce had given him the other DVDs to watch on his own, telling him he should be able to form his own opinion regarding the famous franchise.

"I am loyal to Mr. Stark," JARVIS replied coolly. "I seek no power over humanity and do not hate them. As such, you should not fear me."

"I trust you, JARVIS," Thor stated firmly. "You have always been a friend and excellent advisor."

"Same," Bruce agreed, smiling faintly.

"I don't know what Skynet is," Steve said, "but I don't see any problems with you, JARVIS. You kind of freaked me out at the beginning"—like talking to him in the shower or in the middle of the night when he went to the kitchen or gym—"but you've helped me so much." It was JARVIS who had originally helped him with getting to know Tony, and Steve would forever be thankful to him for that. "You're a friend."

"You, me, and the _Terminator_ movies," Clint tossed over his shoulders. "And, JARVIS, I didn't mean that in a bad way. It's just kind of creepy to know that you can infiltrate a government network in an hour to the extent that you control everything."

"Agreed," Natasha said simply.

"I think it's kind of cool," Spider-Man said, shrugging slightly. He was standing by the unpowered Iron Man suit.

"I understand," JARVIS said. "Mr. Stark mentioned much the same when he finished my upgrades."

"Okay, team bonding moment over," Clint said, looking up at the intercom speakers. "Where are we going?"

JARVIS switched tracks quickly. "South America. The homing bracelets for the suit are located on Cape Horn."

"Is he still wearing them?" Steve asked. "What about the suit?"

"The self-destruct sequence was initiated in Washington shortly after Mr. Stark's last communications. As of the moment, our only lead are the bracelets. I was unable to detect any flights from Washington." JARVIS's voice sounded slightly upset as he admitted to his failure.

"What if it's a trap?" Bruce asked. "Or a false lead? I don't really think they'd forget to take those off; it's well known that Tony builds safeguards in _every_thing."

"His watch," Clint piped, raising his left hand to reveal the slim watch on his wrist. "And mine. Tracking devices."

"The watch was also left in Washington," JARVIS said.

"I have tracking devices in my pants," Bruce informed Spider-Man.

"Don't they rip?" Spider-Man sounded morbidly fascinated. "'Cause, you know…"

"Hulk-proof."

"The bracelets are the only lead we've got," Steve said over everybody. "We're heading to South America at the fastest speed we've got."

Clint nodded and punched in a few buttons; the jet didn't even jump as it went supersonic.

"And if it doesn't work out…" Steve took a breath, tensing his jaw. "…then we'll have to find him some other way."

"I will continue to look through the world's systems for some sign," JARVIS said quietly.

"This better work," Clint muttered, brow furrowed as he looked out the windshield to the open night sky.

"It will," Thor said confidently.

* * *

It didn't work.

When they arrived at Cape Horn at the location where the bracelets were located, all they found was an abandoned base belonging to A.I.M. The bracelets were located in the middle of it, sitting lost and alone on the middle of a table, seeming to mock them with their pristine appearance and the notable lack of Tony.

They'd taken them, but now they were back in the Quinjet, frustrated, worried, and clueless as to what they should do next.

Steve was barely keeping it together. He had just to keep reminding himself that there was a reason they'd taken Tony, and it was for Extremis. He didn't want Tony to fix the virus, but he also didn't want Tony to die.

And he just kept remembering the last night they'd spent together. Steve had been so worried and stressed about Tony going off to Washington that Tony had done his best to calm him down by making love, gently rocking into him. They'd spent the rest of the night curled around one another, the blue light of the arc reactor soothing Steve.

Now he wasn't sure if he'd ever get to have that again. Whether he'd ever see Tony frown in confusion when Steve said something he didn't understand (which was usually about Tony himself, because the man was _blind_ when it came to his own characteristics). Whether he'd ever be able to hug, kiss, or sleep with him again.

It was utterly nerve wracking.

"We'll find him," Bruce told him quietly, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. He was sitting on Steve's right.

"How?" Steve asked blankly, staring at the homing bracelets in his hands.

"A.I.M.'s central base is in Asia," Clint said, face stony. "Chances are that Tony's there."

"A.I.M. is the parent organization of HYDRA from what I can discern from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files," JARVIS reported, subdued. "HYDRA is also situated in Asia. I can narrow down the search as we head there."

"Done," Clint said, going to the pilot's seat.

"It's going to take hours," Steve said, closing his eyes to pinch his nose. "Hours we might not have."

"Anthony is resilient," Thor said comfortingly. "He has almost certainly devised a clever plan to buy time for our arrival."

"But how much?"

"Enough," Natasha said, taking her seat next to Clint.

"Mr. Stark's brilliant," Spider-Man said, sitting down on Steve's left side. "I'm sure he can figure something out."

"I know." Steve sighed, rubbing a thumb over the red stone in the middle of the bracelets. "That's what worries me."

He could feel the confusion radiating off of Spider-Man, but did not elaborate further, eyes focused on the bracelets.

It had taken them three hours to make it from New York to Cape Horn, South America. It would take them about five at the Quinjet's top speed to make it to Asia to investigate the first of the many A.I.M. and HYDRA bases JARVIS had located and was continuing to investigate via computer.

Whatever Tony had done to JARVIS after Fury had snitched the override codes, Steve was eternally thankful for it. He wasn't sure what he would have done without JARVIS's help, because they'd probably still be stuck on the Helicarrier.

They were flying over Vietnam when the silence on the Quinjet was broken by a sudden crackle of static over the intercom and a scream of agony. It cut off as abruptly as it had started, the intercom going silent, but Steve's heart had already skipped a couple of beats.

_He knew that voice_.

"What the fucking _hell_?!" Clint swore eloquently, eyes wide.

"I do not know what that was." JARVIS sounded distracted. "It was broadcasted across every single frequency in the world."

"It's Tony," Steve said hurriedly, already on his feet. He was behind Clint now, hand on the headrest. "It was Tony. Can you find him?"

"It was an unfamiliar frequency—"

"_OhGodohGodohGodhurts**sorrySteve**_ activate program**_swearI'mgonnakillHansen_**_Jesusmotherfucking—_" the incoherent jumble of words broke off into another scream before once again going silent in a crackle of static.

"JARVIS!" Steve barked, panicked.

There was no response, but the lights flickered and the Quinjet dipped suddenly, unexpectedly falling out of supersonic speed so that everyone had to grab something to remain upright.

"Losing power," Clint said, voice calm.

The lights went off and stayed off.

Clint calmly announced, "Lost power."

It was bright outside, the light filtering in through the cockpit windows enough to let Steve see where the parachutes were located. He tossed Clint and Natasha their own, quickly strapping himself into his. He couldn't think about what had just happened. Because thinking about it meant worrying about it, and he couldn't afford to do that.

"Thor, can you take Bruce and Spider-Man?" he asked.

"I've parachuted before," Bruce said, calm. He wasn't going to Hulk out, which was good since Tony wasn't here.

"I can take Spider-Man," Thor said.

"The door isn't opening," Clint said, pulling at the manual override in case of lost power.

"Step aside." Thor had an arm around Spider-Man; his other hand swung his hammer to build up momentum. "I will see you soon, friends."

Without warning, he was pulled forward, Mjölnir punching through the side of the plane as if it was mere paper.

"Bruce—" Steve started.

"I'm ready," Brue confirmed.

"Bailing," Clint warned.

Then he and Natasha jumped. Steve made sure his shield was firmly fastened to him before ensuring Bruce jumped, following a second afterward.

He released his parachute once he was clear of the Quinjet, turning his head to see where it would crash. It was sturdier than most aircrafts, being of Stark design, but that didn't mean it would still be operable after crash landing in the jungles of Vietnam. Yet he still had to make sure, because chances that it wouldn't explode into a fiery ball were high, and one of Tony's suits was still in there. He didn't think he could leave it, knowing what harm it could do if the wreckage was found by the Vietnamese.

Clint's and Natasha's parachutes were below him, while Bruce was on his level. Looking down at the canopy of dense foliage, Steve could only hope that they'd be able to find Thor and Spider-Man.

Several minutes and a lot of scratches and bumps later, Steve had managed to unbuckle himself from the parachute and climb down the tree he'd been caught in. He had Bruce go after him, helping him with some of the trickier footholds.

"So," Clint said brightly once they were all on the ground. He adjusted his quiver and bow. "What now, Captain?"

"We find Thor and Spider-Man," Steve answered. "We'll work it out from there."

"This reminds me of India," Bruce said, looking up at the dense treetops. "But quieter."

"I believe I saw where Thor landed," Natasha said, looking around. "This way."

Trooping through the dense foliage of the tropical forest reminded Steve of doing the same during the war. Except it was wetter, hotter, and denser. So maybe it wasn't the environment that was familiar, but rather the company (even if the people were different).

They'd walked for perhaps ten minutes, Bruce having pulled out his StarkPhone and scowling blackly down at it – Steve would have been concerned if he didn't know Bruce better – when they heard Thor's loud voice and Spider-Man's quieter one, bantering back and forth. There was also tramping as the two were heading their way.

"I find your canisters of web most ingenious!" Thor was saying. There was a loud snap as a branch apparently broke under his weight. "What occupation will you take up?"

"I'm not sure yet," Spider-Man replied, his footsteps silent. "But I'm thinking something with photography or physics. It really depends."

"I am sure you will find success regardless of which endeavor you choose."

"Thanks."

They stumbled into view of one another a minute later, Thor nearly barreling over Natasha.

"My apologies, Natasha!" Thor moved as if to steady her but stopped, mindful of her aversion to touch. He saw the others behind her. "I am pleased to see that you are all well!"

"You know," Spider-Man said, "I've always wanted to get out of the country."

"Good for you, kid," Clint said. "How you liking it?"

"Company's great, but I could do with less trees."

"We should make our way to the jet," Steve said, commandeering everyone's attention. "It's probably incapable of flying, but we need to get the suit."

"Sorry about that." Spider-Man sounded chastised.

"Don't be," Clint told him. "Tony goes through them like underwear. I think this was the third model."

"My phone is dead," Bruce said, speaking for the first time since they'd gone looking for Thor and Spider-Man.

"We're in the jungle," Steve pointed out, thinking it self-explanatory.

"This is a _StarkPhone_." Bruce tapped it against his palm. "They don't just die without some serious damage. Last Tony showed me, it can get dunked in water, thrown into fire, and be thrown off a building and still be intact. And none of that happened to this one."

"I wish I had enough money to get one," Spider-Man said, sighing.

"Hang around long enough and Tony'll swing one for you," Clint informed him.

"What about reception?" Steve asked. "Would you still get that?"

"StarkPhones are renowned for getting reception everywhere. Even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s phones aren't as good. And I should know, considering Tony's complained about them often enough."

"If we get back to the jet, JARVIS might be able to get in touch with us," Natasha suggested. "It's worth a shot."

"No, wait." Bruce held the phone up, which was lighting up. "It's working now."

"Can you pull up a map?" Steve asked, moving to Bruce's side to peer at the now functioning phone.

"Yeah, let me just—" Bruce broke off as the phone chimed and JARVIS's welcome voice spoke,

"_I assume that everyone is intact._"

"JARVIS," Steve said, relieved, "what happened?"

"_All satellites around the world were deactivated and most of the world has lost power. I was temporarily taken offline and had to reboot my systems. In the process, the Helicarrier was depowered, but I managed to restart the systems in time before anything serious occurred. I am now connected to one of Stark Industries' satellites, and as such most communications throughout the world are now up and running, but electricity and most other technological devices remain unavailable._"

"So it wasn't just us?" Spider-Man asked.

"_The frequency that hijacked our communications was broadcast worldwide on every single available channel,_" JARVIS said. "_It has caused quite the consternation._"

"Can you track it?" Steve said urgently.

"_I am currently attempting to do so. It is quite unlike any frequency I have ever encountered._"

"I don't get it," Clint said. "Why would A.I.M. broadcast that? It makes no sense."

JARVIS was silent for a moment. "_That was not A.I.M.,_" he said finally. "_A.I.M. is uncertain as to what happened._"

Meaning JARVIS had hacked into A.I.M.'s communications and was listening in on them.

"We need to get to where Tony is," Steve said, meeting his team's eyes. "But the Quinjet's crashed and we don't have a ride."

"_You are currently in the middle of Vietnam,_" JARVIS said, pulling up a map on the phone. "_Please make your way to the nearest village. I will obtain a Quinjet from S.H.I.E.L.D. It should arrive in several hours._"

"Awesome," Clint drawled, lifting eyes heavenward to look up at the greenery. "I've always wanted to go traipsing through the dense jungle."

"Brazil," Natasha said simply, staring at Clint.

Clint grimaced. "Point."

Steve didn't ask what had happened in Brazil. They wouldn't answer him anyway.

Spider-Man had no such qualms. "What happened in Brazil?"

"Ants," Clint replied. "Man-eating ants the size of my hand." He demonstrated by pointing.

"Don't be ridiculous," Natasha said. "They were the size of my forearm."

"I really don't want to know," Bruce said, blinking.

"We're going," Steve told JARVIS, looking down at the map still on the screen. He began drawing out a route they could take to the village that JARVIS had marked, but after they had gone to the jet.

There was a sudden crackle of static from the phone.

A moment later JARVIS spoke, sounding distracted, "_One moment, Captain._"

Then there was silence and all that remained was the map, the dot that marked the village blinking.

"You think it was something important?" Clint asked, brow furrowed as he looked at the phone.

"I don't know." Steve could only hope that JARVIS had found something related to Tony. The tortured sounds of him screaming in agony were engraved into his mind.

If Tony wasn't in one piece by the time he found him, someone was going to pay.

"We should go," Natasha said, grabbing Steve's attention.

"Yes." Steve took a breath, fortifying himself. "We should. Let's head to the jet first."

"One question." Clint held up a finger. "Which way is it?"

Frowning slightly, Steve did a slow three-sixty, orienting himself under the canopy of trees. Then he looked down at the phone in Bruce's hand, the village still highlighted on it.

"You don't know, do you?" Bruce asked, smiling lightly.

"I do." Steve sounded grumpy even to his own ears. "Just…let me think for a moment."

The jet had been flying into the opposite direction of the rising sun when it had crashed, so that meant west.

"West," Steve decided firmly.

"Great." Clint arched an eyebrow. "Now where's that?"

"You mean you can't tell where north is?" Spider-Man asked. "Aren't you called Hawkeye?"

"Hawk_eye_," Clint agreed, flicking the string on his bow.

"I proclaim north to be in this direction," Thor declared, pointing his hammer off toward the trees on their right.

"It's that way," Natasha disagreed, pointing in the opposite direction with the finger of top arm that was folded across her chest.

"I'm going with the god," Spider-Man said.

"Natasha," Clint said simply.

Opening his mouth, whatever Steve would have said was cut off as Bruce said, "I have a compass."

Everyone looked at the good doctor/scientist, who was looking down at the phone in his hand. He held it up, letting Steve see the compass app he had opened. The arrow pointing north was to Steve's front and not in any direction Thor or Natasha had picked.

"This way." Steve began tromping to his left, Bruce on his heels with the phone still in his hand.

"Are you certain this compass is correct?" Thor asked from the rear.

"It's a StarkPhone," was all Bruce had to say on the matter.

The StarkPhone promptly burst into static shortly before JARVIS said, "_You can speak, sir._"

"What, JARVIS?" Clint asked, sounding confused.

"_Is this the Avengers? Am I connected to them?_"

It took Steve a second to realize that he wasn't delirious. Tony was _talking to them_. "Tony? Is that you? Where are you?" The words came out in a rush and he was whirling, almost knocking Bruce over in his eagerness to get to the phone, which was hastily relinquished.

"_It's me,_" Tony confirmed, the sound of his voice soothing. There was a little burst of static. "_I'm not sure._"

"How can you not be sure?" Clint demanded, edging by Bruce to stand next to him. "Can't you figure it out using those computers?"

"_I'm not using computers,_" came Tony's snappish response.

Not using computers? Did that mean Tony had gotten hold of a phone? If so, how much longer would he be able to talk with them without risking discovery?

"_JARVIS, what the hell happened?_" Tony asked, instantly catching Steve's attention. "_Power went out?_"

"_Every single satellite was taken offline. Power was lost throughout most of the world,_" JARVIS confirmed.

"_Damn. So that's what that was._"

"What?" Bruce was frowning.

The image of the map flickered for a moment. "_You guys are in Vietnam?_"

This wasn't getting them anywhere. Steve needed to find out where Tony was and what had happened (the screaming entered his mind). He managed to keep his voice even and serious as he asked, "Tony, what's going on?"

There was another short burst of static, but then Tony said, "_Damn. Hold that thought. Be right back._"

And there went Steve's composure. "What? Tony!"

But it was no use. There was another crackle of static, but absolutely nothing from Tony. Steve had to take several deep breaths to stop himself from completely flipping the lid. He still had the team to take care of. He couldn't lose it. Not now.

Tony was okay. He was still alive. That was the important part.

His heart leapt for a moment when a fizzle of static came, but dropped when only JARVIS spoke. "_I am unable to initiate contact with Mr. Stark._"

"You can't find the frequency he was using?" Natasha asked, standing directly behind Clint. Thor and Spider-Man were on the archer's other side.

"_He is ignoring it,_" JARVIS said, sounding both peeved and bemused. "_I do not believe he was using a computer terminal, as I found his consciousness inhabiting one of Stark Industries' satellites._"

"What do you mean?" Steve demanded, terror rising in him.

"_Mr. Stark assured me that he had not been 'digitalized all the way',_" JARVIS said quickly, seeming to sense that his incongruous statement had caused some panic.

"That's just dandy!" Clint said blankly. "So he's been digitalized just a bit then?"

"_I wouldn't know, Agent._"

"Extremis," Bruce muttered, frowning slightly.

"What?" Natasha asked, eyes snapping up to him.

Bruce didn't react upon being the focus of every single person in the group. "It must be Extremis," he repeated, looking down at the phone. "If he isn't using a computer terminal and said he hadn't been digitalized all the way, the only explanation I can think of is Extremis."

"He was _infected_?" Clint sounded a mixture between horrified and disgusted.

"It's injected," Bruce corrected sharply. "Fury might have called it a virus, but it isn't contagious. You have to be injected with the serum in order for it to work and even then it doesn't."

A 98% fatality rate. If Tony had been injected with Extremis, how much longer did they have?

"If he's been injected with Extremis," Steve said, keeping his voice calm with a great force of will, "how much longer do we have?"

"It should be all right," Bruce said. "The fatality rate is for the period of time when Extremis is still modifying the body. If Tony is connecting to satellites and phone lines and capable of knocking out the world's power and satellites, then he should be in the clear."

"_My findings are in agreement with Dr. Banner's statements,_" JARVIS added.

"Back up a second," Clint said before Steve could. "Are you saying that Tony knocked out power?"

"Judging from what he was saying, it would make sense," Bruce said, shrugging lightly. "I'm not quite sure of Extremis's capabilities, as Fury's file didn't cover that, but it does give a person access to technology."

And Tony was fully able to access technology with his affinity to them. Perhaps more so than others who would be injected with Extremis.

But that didn't answer the question as to _why_. Why had Tony been injected with Extremis – if he had been at all?

"We should keep moving," Steve finally said, not voicing any of his thoughts.

"Anthony will be fine," Thor said confidently, reading something in Steve's voice. "He has endured much."

Steve was only able to muster up a weak smile in response to that, though it faded quickly. "Let's move," he said, gripping the phone tighter.

It was five minutes of walking and continually checking the map and compass to make sure they were heading the right direction before there was another fizzle of static and Steve stopped dead, hardly daring to breathe.

"_Okay, I'm back._"

Relief poured through him. He couldn't believe how much had ridden on Tony still being all right. "Tony! Are you all right?"

"_I'm fine. Just peachy. You?_"

Steve couldn't stop the disbelieving laugh. Tony was the one who had been kidnapped and possibly injected with Extremis, and he was asking _him_ if he was all right. "We're fine."

"We're worried about you, idiot," Clint said, staring down at the phone as if he could pull Tony out from there. "Where are you?"

"_I'll get back to you on that. Dr. Hansen. Where is she?_"

The complete derailment of the topic made Steve's mouth turn dry. What was wrong? "What?"

The answer didn't raise Steve's confidence any. "_Answer me._"

Had Extremis messed with Tony's mind? Steve couldn't see any other explanation as to why Tony would be asking them where Dr. Hansen was.

Then Tony said, "_Thank you._" A moment later he added, "_Sorry about that._"

It was a struggle to keep the terror out of his voice. "What happened? We only heard your end."

The fact that Tony sounded intrigued as he said "_That so?_" only served to slightly alleviate Steve's anxiety.

A movement out of the corner of his eye had him looking up into Natasha's terrifyingly blank face; in contrast, her voice was biting. "A little more information would be appreciated."

There was a tell-tale pause. Or at least it was tell-tale to Steve. He could practically hear the gears whirring in his partner's head.

"_I'm talking to you in my head,_" Tony said finally."_Or I'm talking out loud, but I could just be silent. Which I'll do right now._"

Steve couldn't tell a difference. He wasn't sure what his face was saying, but it apparently wasn't anything good, because Clint's eyes were flickering from him to the phone.

"Of course you're talking to us in your head," Clint said snidely, his knuckles whitening on the bow the only sign as to his agitation. "You think before you speak, or the other way if you're stupid."

"_No. I mean I have a phone line to you in my head. I also accidentally knocked out power in most of the world, so sorry about that._"

"_Not repeating the experience would be greatly appreciated,_" JARVIS said.

There was a short pause before Tony spoke again, tone decidedly frosty. "_Hello, Doctor. I think you have some questions to answer, don't you?_"

"Tony?" The word left his lips before he could stop it, anxiety coating every syllable of it.

"_You failed to mention the ninety-eight percent chance of fatality,_" Tony said pleasantly, sending chills down Steve's spine. He'd never heard his partner sound so coldly amiable before – save for when he had been talking to Fury.

Knowing that Tony wasn't going insane – that he was talking to someone on his end – didn't make Steve feel any better. He didn't think he would feel better until he was able to hold Tony again. Agonized screams and Tony lying silent in a hospital bed, ashen from blood loss, kept flickering through his head.

Promises asked for and given came to mind. _"Don't do that again. Please._"

_"…I won't."_

Swallowing thickly, Steve had to trust that Tony would keep that promise.

The sound of Tony speaking brought him back to the jungles of Vietnam. "_In a matter of speaking_"—his icy tone could freeze over Steve's shield—"_I suppose I am._"

"For fuck's sake, Tony!" Clint burst out, fingers sporadically tightening and loosening on the strap of his quiver. "Tell us what is going on!"

"_I'm talking to Hansen. She injected me with Extremis, considering I was too far gone._"

There was no stopping the strangled noise of distress that burst from his lips. He wet his lips, tried to speak, and failed.

Thor took over for him, his steady strong voice providing a desperately needed anchor for Steve. "Where are you, Anthony? We will hurry to your side as soon as JARVIS provides us our ride."

"_Where are we?_" Tony demanded someone – presumably the infamous Dr. Hansen.

A moment later the response came, apparently parroted from Hansen: "_Underground and somewhere in the Mongolian steppes._" Another short pause and then: "_How did you get to Vietnam when you don't have a ride?_"

"We did," Bruce said, resting a warm hand on Steve's elbow in reassurance, "but someone knocked out power, which included taking out the Quinjet."

"If our jet was taken down, what about other planes flying at the same time?" Spider-Man asked, finally speaking.

"**_Spider-Man_**_?_" It wasn't often Steve heard Tony sound so surprised, but he wished it was in a different situation.

Steve wasn't going to tell Tony what had happened. There was no need to burden him with that.

Natasha shared the same belief. "We'll explain later."

Yet scant seconds later Tony's horrified voice came in a whisper, "_Oh God. JARVIS—_"

"_I know, sir._" The AI's tone was subdued. "_I was unable to reestablish power in time to save the planes that were affected._"

Tony's answer was blank of emotion, but the reason for that was so obvious that it made Steve's heart ache. "_Not your fault. You couldn't have accessed them._"

"_I could have, sir. I am Skynet._" Once again, Steve didn't understand the reference, but didn't need to for him to understand that it was a futile attempt at cheering Tony up.

"_Lead us out of here._" Tony was again talking to someone they couldn't hear, but this time the tone was weary and defeated.

And Steve _hurt_. He wanted nothing more than to embrace Tony tightly and not let him go. He _needed_ to see him, see that he was fine – or would be. He needed to tell Tony that it wasn't his fault it had happened.

But he could do none of that right now. He was stranded in the middle of Vietnam, still miles away from where Tony was.

"_I'll send you coordinates to the place,_" Tony was saying, jerking Steve out of his thoughts. "_I'll meet you here._"

Steve swallowed, needing to say something. Anything. "Tony…"

"_I'll meet you here,_" was all Tony said.

Then the connection was cut, and all Steve had to comfort himself was the thought that Tony was all right and they could get to him in several hours.

But first they had to get out of here.

* * *

Agony. Pure agony.

That was all Tony could feel ripping through every muscle and bone. He'd given up on stifling his screams, though he could no longer tell if it was just in his head or if he was actually screaming.

He'd been unconscious for the first part, but coming back to consciousness had been a cruel wakeup call. He was aware of nothing else but pain.

After a short time, the pain changed to something else. His head began pounding with something that made most thinking impossible.

Pure chaos – _noise_ – filled his head, until he couldn't think for hearing nothing but chatter in his head.

"_Coca-Cola stocks rise by two—_"

"_Storms in Florida—_"

"_—two for the price of one!_"

"_—currently two miles out—_"

"—_ich wollte nur sagen, dass Sie was anderes machen—_"

It was too much. It simply _hurt_. His mind kept up a litany of swears, apologies, and threats to kill Hansen if – _when_ – he got out of this. Then there was the screaming.

The noise and chatter in his head was too much and gave a whole new meaning to the term multitasking. It wasn't simply humming anymore; it was utter calamity and Tony couldn't _think_. It was deafening.

Striking out, he did what he would have done with the humming: clasped a mental hand over what he could grab, silencing it. Given that his mental grasp was weaker than usual, however, he only managed to silence part of it. But it was enough. What remained drifted to background noise, tolerable for the moment.

Breathing heavily, Tony registered that his throat hurt – most likely from screaming – but that the rest of his body felt great. Apparently in the midst of him struggling to deal with the chaos in his head, the pain in his body had stopped.

His eyes snapped open, only to find himself in utter darkness except for the blue light of the arc reactor. Tony sat up, surprised to find himself stark naked – see what he did there? – and surrounded by bodily fluids he'd rather not think about. There was no one else in the room and he couldn't sense any humming (which might be hidden amidst the chaos still going on in the back of his head).

**Stark Satellite Serial #0058231 booting up…**

Tony blinked as the thought drifted through his head. What was that?

Pushing himself to his feet, trying to avoid the worst of the mess, Tony picked his way to the door, pausing to find that he felt strange. His body felt lighter, almost as if his bones had become somewhat hollow. Frowning, he looked down at himself, only to freeze at the sight of the arc reactor.

He normally didn't look at the reactor, except to check that everything was still in working order. Steve loved it, since it kept Tony alive, but Tony could do without the reminder of his mistakes. Plus, it wasn't anything pretty to look at. Sure, the arc reactor itself was a marvel, but the scars surrounding it were a reminder of what had happened.

And those scars were gone, replaced by smooth unblemished skin. And the arc reactor…

It was no longer framed by metal. Rather, smooth skin gave way to the cool blue light of the reactor. Fingers trembling, Tony traced the edge of the reactor, noting numbly that there was no difference in depth where his skin ended and the smooth surface of the reactor begun. He shivered lightly as he traced over the surface, phantom echoes of sensation sparking out from his chest. The reactor had, for lack of a better explanation, apparently merged with his skin.

He'd just made this realization and was wondering what had happened when the noise in his head spiked, blacking out his vision as endless streams of data scrolled before his eyes. He was vaguely aware that he'd collapsed, but most of his awareness was taken up with the sheer volume of data assaulting his senses.

Tony was about to silence it again when he realized that the source of the data seemed strangely familiar. It shared the same cadence of the humming he had been surrounded with at home. Curious, Tony followed it, suddenly finding himself disoriented and floating in what seemed to a central hub of information from countless sources.

Most of it seemed to come from cell phones, as thousands of people were chattering to one another, confused and terrified at whatever was happening to them.

For his part, Tony was one part confused, one part terrified, and one part insanely curious.

Then the source he'd followed seemed to recognize that he was there. And it spoke.

"Sir?" It sounded utterly perplexed.

"JARVIS?" Tony sounded similarly confused. Then he noticed that he wasn't actually speaking. It left his lips – or whatever he was using to speak – through streams of data. "What?"

"Sir, I don't… How did this happen?" JARVIS sounded vaguely distressed.

"I'm not sure." Tony felt around back where his body was and found that he could go back if he absolutely had to. He kept part of his mind there, making sure nothing untoward happened. "I still have a body if that's what you're worried about. I haven't been digitalized. Not all the way anyway."

"I see." JARVIS's presence hovered about him, considering. Then: "Do you trust me, sir?"

Tony didn't even have to think about it. "With my life."

"Then please hold on to me."

Tony had the impression of JARVIS stretching out a hand to grab his own, but that wasn't possible because this was all computer data. And he was beginning to remember what had happened before all this.

There was a shift that felt like moving, and Tony found himself suddenly connected to what could only be a phone line: it had the characteristic humming.

"You can speak, sir," JARVIS said eventually, seeming to make sure that Tony was settled.

"_What, JARVIS?_" Clint?

"Is this the Avengers?" Tony asked, looking to where he could feel JARVIS located. "Am I connected to them?"

"_Tony? Is that you?_" God, Steve sounded so hopeful and so damned relieved. "_Where are you?_"

"It's me," Tony confirmed, the second question making him pause. Where _was_ he anyway? "I'm not sure."

"_How can you not be sure?_" Clint again. "_You're talking to us now, aren't you? Can't you figure it out using those computers?_"

"I'm not using computers," Tony snapped. He blinked his nonexistent eyes, trying to sort through the information still streaming through his head. It was getting easier to parse – thank goodness for a high learning curve. This was going to be a bitch regardless. "JARVIS, what the hell happened? Power went out?"

"Every single satellite was taken offline. Power was lost throughout most of the world."

Tony felt inexplicably guilty, realizing what he'd done earlier. "Damn. So that's what that was."

"_What?_" Bruce was there, too.

In fact, as Tony poked at the information of the phone he was talking through, he found that it was Bruce's phone they were using. And then he saw that there was a map of Vietnam pulled up. "You guys are in Vietnam?"

"_Tony, what's going on?_" Steve was using his Captain America voice.

Forcing himself to focus, pushing back all the superfluous data in his head, Tony began to reply, only to realize that something was happening on his physical end. "Damn. Hold that thought. Be right back."

"_What? Tony!_" Steve sounded panicked.

But this was more important. Steve would be even unhappier if Tony didn't take care of his body.

It took more effort than Tony had anticipated to find his way back to his body. He came back to himself with a shuddering gasp, blinking as his eyes adjusted to being used again. He was face down on the stone floor of his cell and had to push himself up, only to nearly be hit in the head with the motion of the door being opened.

Acting reflexively, Tony slammed the door shut with his mind, inexorably relieved to find that his telekinesis was working again. Whatever drug M.O.D.O.K. had given him had apparently worn off by now.

Or maybe Extremis had taken it out when it had rewritten his DNA.

Orienting himself back in his body, Tony stood up, wishing that he wasn't naked. Where had his clothes gone? He didn't think Hansen would have taken them off.

Shaking his head slightly, Tony figured he would just take one of his enemy's clothes (he'd leave the helmet, though, since that was ridiculous). Decision made, Tony turned his attention back to the door, yanking it open.

Several A.I.M. guys immediately fell in, only to be jerked up to the ceiling. The others waiting outside were thrown to the sides as Tony stepped out, shutting and locking the door behind him. The only light in the pitch dark of the hallway was given by the flashlights they were holding and the eerie blue light of Tony's arc reactor.

"Hello, gents," Tony said cheerfully, grinning maniacally. He picked one on his right and began stripping him. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked conversationally, raising an eyebrow as he looked into the visor.

The clothing was too big and baggy, but at least it covered him. He left the shoes and gloves on the beekeeper guy, as he could easily fly if something threatened to cut his feet.

Done there, Tony headed to where he could remember meeting M.O.D.O.K., efficiently taking care of any A.I.M. men he encountered, vindictively enjoying using his telekinesis against them.

When he entered the room, he was unsurprised to find M.O.D.O.K. already there. "Hello, Mobile Organism Designed Only for Killing." He grinned, cocking his head to the side. "Did you miss me?"

"Stark," M.O.D.O.K. growled, white eyes narrowing.

"One and the same," Tony said, voice cold. "You didn't expect this, did you? Your little scientist rebelled, and here I am."

"She has been taken care of," M.O.D.O.K. said.

Tony studied him, eyes narrowed. "No, she hasn't," he said finally. "You wouldn't dare. If anything goes wrong with Extremis, she's the one who knows why. You wouldn't risk that." He frowned. "Why didn't you kill me? You knew she'd injected me with it."

M.O.D.O.K. bared his teeth, a murderous grin. "A fatality rate of ninety-eight percent." His voice was soft. "And then you stepped in. You are our first successful test of the Extremis virus. Look at it this way, Stark: you get to experience your last success before you die."

"No, I won't." Tony smiled blandly, eyes cold. "Because you underestimated what the results would be. If anyone's going to die, it'll be you."

M.O.D.O.K. snarled, but was unable to attack as Tony violently struck out, throwing the chair toward the far wall and directly into the screen. It shattered with the impact, raining shards of plasma onto the floor.

"I suppose I have you in a way to thank for this," Tony said, impassively looking on as M.O.D.O.K. struggled in his chair. "I've always wanted to be a computer." He smiled sardonically. "Now I suppose I am. And, well…I'd thank you, but this really isn't all it's cracked up to be."

M.O.D.O.K. snarled something inarticulate just before Tony tore the chair away from him, ruthlessly throwing the misshapen thing up against the wall once more. This time the being hit it with a sickening squelch, sliding down to rest against the wall, motionless.

Tony studied the misshapen human being emotionlessly for a solid moment, feeling nothing. For the most part, he felt utterly numb. It was difficult to register much else with the endless stream of data still assaulting his consciousness. It left little space in his brain for much else.

Sighing softly, Tony turned his back on the sorry sight, aiming to look for Maya Hansen. On another level, he began to look for the familiar humming he associated with JARVIS, and by extension the phone call he'd left hanging.

This time when he connected, he was still fully present in his body, walking through the dark hallways. The only light he had was his arc reactor, as he'd opened the yellowish-orange jacket to let the light out.

"Okay, I'm back." He realized belatedly that he'd spoken out loud, but it didn't seem to matter as it had still been conveyed to his team.

"_Tony!_" It was Steve again. "_Are you all right?_"

"I'm fine." Tony knocked the next A.I.M. guy he came across into the wall with his hands, employing a move Steve had shown him. "Just peachy. You?"

There was a disbelieving laugh. "_We're fine._"

"_We're worried about you, idiot,_" Clint added. "_Where are you?_"

"I'll get back to you on that," Tony responded, snagging the next man he saw and slamming him up against the wall. "Dr. Hansen," he demanded, getting into the other man's space. "Where is she?"

"_What?_" Steve sounded confused.

"Answer me," Tony snapped, pushing his arm directly into the man's chest. The man made a slight choking sound and he lessened the force he was using, momentarily surprised. Then he remembered Extremis and the fact that it built up muscle strength.

"Down the hallway," the man gasped, voice muffled due to the mask.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Thank you." Then he knocked the man's head back against the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious.

He returned his attention back to the phone call he was carrying out in his head. "Sorry about that."

"_What happened?_" Steve asked. "_We only heard your end._"

"That so?" Tony murmured, considering the implications. So he wasn't a microphone. He probably didn't even need to talk out loud.

"_A little more information would be appreciated,_" Natasha's biting voice snapped.

Mulling over all the possible explanations he could give, Tony decided to go with the bluntest. "I'm talking to you in my head. Or I'm talking out loud, but I could just be silent. _Which I'll do right now._"

"_Of course you're talking to us in your head,_" Clint said snidely. "_You think before you speak, or the other way if you're stupid._"

"_No. I mean I have a phone line to you in my head. I also accidentally knocked out power in most of the world, so sorry about that._"

"_Not repeating the experience would be greatly appreciated,_" JARVIS said, joining in.

Tony stopped in front of a locked door, unlocking and opening it without looking inside. Not that there was any need to, as Hansen was sitting there in the dark, a dark bruise blossoming on her cheek.

Her head snapped up in panic, eyes widening upon seeing Tony standing there. "Mr. Stark!"

"Hello, Doctor." Tony's smile had her recoiling. "I think you have some questions to answer, don't you?"

"_Tony?_" Steve asked anxiously.

"You were too injured!" Hansen was speaking rapidly. "It was the only chance you had. Extremis would either repair the damage or you would die."

"You failed to mention the ninety-eight percent chance of fatality," Tony said pleasantly, folding his arms across his chest.

"That was without your coding." Hansen swallowed audibly, standing now. "Please, Mr. Stark. I did what I thought had to be done. Aren't…aren't you all right?"

Tony thought about the pervading numbness, the utter absence of feeling on seeing M.O.D.O.K.'s motionless body on the floor, and the fact that he was now basically a walking computer with absolutely no idea how to make it all shut off. "In a matter of speaking," he said, his tone making her flinch, "I suppose I am."

"_For fuck's sake, Tony!_" Clint snapped, causing Tony to flinch before he realized that it was in his head. "_Tell us what is going on!_"

"I'm talking to Hansen," he said curtly, seeing her eyes widen again when she realized what he was doing. "She injected me with Extremis, considering I was too far gone." There was a strangled sound that sounded like Steve.

"_Where are you, Anthony?_" Thor asked. "_We will hurry to your side as soon as JARVIS provides us our ride._"

Tony didn't doubt that he could use Extremis to figure out where he was, but it wasn't something he wanted to risk. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he was feeling too inhuman and it was sending alarm bells off in his head.

"Where are we?" he demanded Hansen.

Hansen blinked, frowning at him. "The – the Mongolian steppes. I've never asked where specifically, but we're underground."

"Underground and somewhere in the Mongolian steppes," Tony repeated, stepping back out into the hallway. He jerked his head to signal that Hansen should follow, which she hesitantly did. "_How did you get to Vietnam when you don't have a ride?_"

"_We did,_" Bruce said, "_but someone knocked out power, which included taking out the Quinjet._"

"_If our jet was taken down, what about other planes flying at the same time?_" a surprising voice interjected.

"_Spider-Man_?" Tony blurted out loud in surprise.

"_We'll explain later,_" Natasha said curtly.

A news voice filtered into Tony's brain, fed to him by what he realized was Extremis responding to the question posed by Spider-Man and repeated by his own mind, "_Planes down in the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans and across the United States, Europe, Asia, Africa, South America, and the rest of the world. Casualties are unknown—_"

"Oh God," Tony whispered faintly, drawing a concerned glance from Hansen. "JARVIS—"

"_I know, sir._" JARVIS's voice was subdued. "_I was unable to reestablish power in time to save the planes that were affected._" He didn't say "you", but he didn't need to. Tony already knew enough.

"_Not your fault,_" Tony broadcasted mentally, feeling sick for the first time. The news broadcasts he'd tuned into were still running in the back of his head, giving him statistics and reporting what had occurred in the rest of the world when he'd taken out power. "_You couldn't have accessed them._"

"_I could have, sir. I am Skynet._" The joke fell flat.

"Mr. Stark?" Hansen asked quietly.

"Lead us out of here," Tony told her numbly, finally feeling for the first time since he'd woken up. It was beginning to sink in as to what he had done. He didn't know why, but maybe it had to do with his brain finally managing to filter through the information Extremis was providing him. He'd always thought like a computer; it made sense that he'd so quickly learn to actively control the information provided by actually _being_ one.

It was really no different than turning off various functions in the computers back home. Or using his telekinesis.

Closing his eyes, Tony reached out to the generators powering the facility, sick of the cold blue illumination of his reactor – now a part of him even more so than before. He found them, feeling them linked to the rest of the building he was walking in. With a mental flick he turned them on, making sure that the computers and everything else accessing the outside world were firmly off.

The lights flickered on and he zipped up the jacket, covering his reactor beneath the ugly shade of color.

"Lead on, Macduff," he said without turning to Hansen.

"_I'll send you coordinates to the place,_" Tony said to the others, outwardly falling silent as he followed Hansen. "_I'll meet you here._"

"_Tony…_" Steve's voice was soft, concern evident even over the phone line.

"_I'll meet you here,_" Tony repeated. Then he cut the phone line.

News reports came to the forefront. "_Casualties are estimated to number in the thousands…_"

And Tony closed his eyes, Hansen's voice echoing in his mind, purely a memory now rather than any actual communications from Extremis. _"But perhaps this will help alleviate some of the damage I have done."_

The image of blood splattering across a windshield as a young soldier was gunned down flashed in his mind's eye.

_"Is this what you wish the legacy of the great Tony Stark to be?"_

It seemed he was back at square one…

* * *

The Quinjet couldn't arrive fast enough. On the way to the village, they had found the crashed Quinjet, making a detour to retrieve Tony's suit. Then they'd continued to the village, restless with agitation.

Steve couldn't stop fretting, worry making his mouth go dry. He hadn't liked the defeated tone in Tony's voice as he realized what had happened with the planes JARVIS had been unable to save. Like their own situation, but _they_ had at least been capable of escaping. The passengers on the commuter planes that flew everywhere nowadays hadn't even had that chance.

And if Steve – who hadn't even been responsible for that – felt so guilty about it, how much worse must Tony feel?

He couldn't even imagine it.

After the Quinjet arrived when they were trekking through a clearing, piloted solely by JARVIS, it took about another two hours for them to arrive at the coordinates JARVIS had been given by Tony. The flight had been subdued, no one willing to talk with the weight of recent revelations. None of them knew what exactly had happened to Tony, except that it was Extremis related.

The silence had finally been broken by an exultant cry from Clint, now circling over the area. Moving to the cockpit window meant that Steve could see what he had, Tony and a woman standing outside underneath the sun.

When they finally landed, Steve was the first off the Quinjet, wrapping Tony in a fierce embrace. He was hugged back just as fiercely.

Burying his nose in the black strands of Tony's hair, Steve finally breathed.

He was back home.

* * *

The first few hours of the ride back to New York were mostly spent in silence. Tony spent it tucked into Steve's side, the other's arm firmly around his waist. Bruce was on his other side. Hansen had been flanked by Thor and Spider-Man, both of them apparently deciding to keep an eye on her.

Tony kept breathing in and out, head resting on Steve's shoulder. His eyes were closed, but he was tracking the streams of data scrolling behind his lids. At the same time, he kept himself grounded by focusing on the arm holding him firmly to Steve.

This was the most human he had felt since waking up after being modified by Extremis.

Even so, he could hear the news reports from all over the world, reporting on the unexpected loss of power and the malfunction with the satellites. If he wasn't careful, everything would come at once, and then he would knock everything out again in a panic. As it was, he was carefully probing at what he could hear, working on tuning out certain channels and tuning back in.

And around him he could hear the mechanics of the Quinjet working, even more so than usual with his affinity to electronics. It was almost a language in itself and not one Tony was willing to listen to at the moment.

JARVIS was busy working elsewhere in the world, trying to fix what Tony had inadvertently done. Tony would have offered to help, since he could probably fix it, but he didn't want to chance something going wrong. And he didn't think he should be using Extremis, not until he knew exactly what it meant that he'd been injected with it and survived.

Exhaling slowly, Tony focused on trying to shut down Extremis just like he would any other computer. It had to be possible. He couldn't live with this continually running in the background.

Then again, Hansen should have a way of fixing this.

"I don't mean to be a downer," Clint said several hours into the flight home, "but what are we going to do with her?" "Her" being Maya Hansen.

"Give her to S.H.I.E.L.D.," Natasha said coolly, not even turning around.

"I don't trust Fury," Steve said in a low dangerous voice. "How do we know he won't try to pull something else if we go there?"

Tony shifted, opening his eyes to blink up at Steve, vision clearing as he pushed Extremis to the background. "What happened?"

"He locked us up," Steve said curtly, jaw working. "He said we couldn't go after you. If it weren't for JARVIS…"

"Nice job there, Tony," Clint said. "I like the _Terminator _touch. We could all use a little Skynet in our lives."

"If you don't trust him," Tony said snappishly, "then why are you here?"

"I never said I don't trust him." Clint turned to stare at Tony. "I'm just saying that you really beefed him up. It's great, but a little warning would've been nice."

Tony nodded jerkily, but kept silent. Steve's arm tightened around him in reassurance.

"I wouldn't go back," Bruce said, right hand curled into a fist. "We're still technically under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s jurisdiction."

"As of five minutes ago," JARVIS said cheerfully, "you have all resigned from the Avengers Initiative. You are all independent from S.H.I.E.L.D. May I suggest the Avengers as a codename for your new team?"

"I thought we were waiting on that," Tony said, feeling the smugness radiate from where he could feel JARVIS in the Quinjet.

"Considering recent events, I thought that perhaps it would be advisable to cut ties sooner rather than later."

"Does that mean I'm free to go home?" Spider-Man asked hopefully, looking up.

Tony eyed him. "Let me guess: guys in suits started stalking you?"

"Yep." Spider-Man nodded.

Tony straightened slightly, adjusting Steve's arm, which didn't release him. "You're welcome to join the team if you want," he said, flicking his eyes toward Steve's face. "Consider it a standing invitation. If you're on the Avengers, Fury can't touch you since he now has no authorization to interfere."

"Er…" Spider-Man radiated uncertainty.

"You don't have to join unofficially," Tony added. "Just make it official so S.H.I.E.L.D. can't bother you anymore. Unofficially we'll still consider you independent, but you're welcome to change that any time."

"I'm with him on this," Steve said.

"I would be honored if you would join our ranks," Thor said, turning his head to grin at Spider-Man.

"Likewise," Clint and Natasha said simultaneously.

"I'd enjoy another scientist around," Bruce said, smiling faintly, "even if you're still in high school."

"Thank you." Spider-Man sounded a bit dumbstruck.

Hansen stirred from her stiff position between Thor and Spider-Man. "What about me?" she ventured cautiously.

"We don't really have a place to keep you," Tony said, his words causing a flicker of fear to cross her face. "That said, we should form an alliance with S.H.I.E.L.D., because it'd be a pain to have them on our backs as enemies."

"As if they being allies was any better," Bruce said.

"They were our handlers," Tony corrected, wondering about the legalities about establishing such an unorthodox alliance. He blinked as information rolled through his head – information from the Internet "helpfully" provided by Extremis. Shaking his head in irritation, Tony shut it down the best he could. "There's a difference," he continued. "If they're our allies, they'll have to treat us with a lot more respect. In any case, I suppose we could give them Hansen as a gesture of goodwill."

"I saved your life!" Hansen blurted, sounding rather desperate. "I stopped M.O.D.O.K.; I told him I still needed your help."

"And you injected me with Extremis," Tony said icily. "Don't think that grants you any favors."

"Your nerves were critically injured! They wouldn't have been fixed any other way." Hansen swallowed, admitting reluctantly, "I came too late to stop M.O.D.O.K. from doing that much."

"And now I have a computer in my brain that just won't _shut up_," Tony snapped, standing upright, dislodging Steve's arm. "Do you think I _like_ that? Did you consider that you'd essentially be stripping me of my humanity? I don't even feel like _me_! I feel like a goddamned _computer_!" His voice rose to a shout and the power flickered in the Quinjet, dipping them in the air.

"_Tony_!" Clint barked, alarmed.

Tony exhaled sharply, pulling back to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He checked the jet, made sure there was no damage, and then reached into the back of his mind toward the source of the now constant buzz in his head and viciously shut it off. Extremis fell silent with a protest, making his head ring with the sudden absence.

But it was truly silent for the first time since he'd woken with Extremis. Now he was just left with the comforting humming of the electronics around him and the larger awareness he had of the Quinjet; that would probably never fade even if he shut Extremis off: it had amplified his affinity to electronics.

When he came back to himself, he found that Steve had wrapped him in a tight embrace from the side, breathing slowly and steadily into his hair.

"All right?" Steve asked softly, noticing Tony's confused blinking.

Sagging slightly into the strong embrace, Tony exhaled raggedly. "I don't know." His tone was defeated.

"That's okay. That's okay," Steve repeated, planting a kiss on Tony's temple. He ignored the other people around them. "It doesn't matter. I love you." He kissed him again, lingering for a moment longer.

Tony's answer was a near whisper: "You, too."

They stood like that for a few seconds longer, Tony taking comfort from Steve's strong steady presence.

Eventually, Spider-Man cleared his throat, hesitantly saying, "Your eyes were black for a moment there. Possessed black, I mean."

Tony didn't say anything, simply continuing to breathe.

"Are you gonna get the blue screen of death?" Clint asked. "'Cause of the whole computer thing—"

"Clint." Steve's voice was calm and dangerous.

"—shutting up."

"Remove it." The words were quiet.

Steve drew away from Tony, brow furrowed. "What?"

"Remove it," Tony repeated, staring Hansen down.

Hansen's eyes were wide. "I can't. It – it can't be removed. It's permanent. Like with your teammates"—her eyes darted from Steve to Bruce—"it isn't designed to be removed."

"Then you better damn well hope that you can teach me how to shut it off."

"I—" Hansen broke off, twisting her hands.

"Answer him." Bruce's voice came from behind him.

"It's a computer," Hansen said finally, looking up to meet Tony's eyes. "It operates exactly like one and responds to the same commands. You studied the code; you should know this!"

"I didn't make it. I fixed it." The words were bitter. "Now tell me."

"You can program it," Hansen said, wetting her lips. "Open up windows and close them down. Uplink into satellites and connect to certain systems. It depends on how familiar you are with technology." Her eyes ran up and down Tony's figure, momentarily resting on his chest where the arc reactor lay. "You can't shut it off – not fully. You'd die without it." Steve's arm reflexively tightened around Tony's shoulder. "But you can power it down to rest. It's like telepathy. It needs to rest, or it'll be overstressed. Like the fan for a computer; it will overheat if you overwork it."

She shook her head. "I only know how it's supposed to function. The actual practice of it escapes me. I'm sorry."

So he was on his own.

Tony broke away from Steve, moving towards the back of the aircraft, where his Mark III suit was standing. He crouched down by it, feeling inordinately soothed by the familiar humming the technology emitted. Closing his eyes, he considered everything he had just heard.

He was on his own. Okay, fine. He could work with that. He'd learned how to work his telekinesis on his own from the age of thirteen. He could do this. He was older and wiser.

Extremis was just like multitasking on a whole different level. He'd always been able to multitask; he would just have to get used to sharing his brain with a computer – no. He would have to get used to _being_ a computer.

Look on the positive side: He'd be able to work on several different projects at once without needing to switch screens. He could do it all himself without having JARVIS run something in the background. His suit would probably be easier to run.

Tony felt a hand settle on his back.

"Tony?" Despite the relatively calm nature of Steve's tone, Tony could hear the underlying worry.

God, he was an idiot. Steve had been worried about him this entire time and he was just making it worse. Buck up, Stark.

"No biggie," Tony murmured, eyes fixed on the red paint of the leg of the suit. "It'll be just like old times."

Steve exhaled sharply, something aggravated about it. "Don't do that," he reproached.

"What?" Tony didn't look back.

"Don't make this out like it's not a big deal." Steve huffed and pulled Tony around, encountering more resistance than usual with Tony's enhanced strength. "Because it is," he continued earnestly, looking into Tony's eyes. "You have something else to deal with now."

"Just say it. I've changed."

"Yes, you've changed! But it doesn't _mean_ anything, Tony. You're still you, just with a few additions. We can deal with this."

"You shouldn't have to deal with this—"

"I _will_," Steve said sharply, shutting Tony up. "I want _you_, Tony. Not some girl – _you_. And I don't care what's happened. I'm not leaving you just because something's rewritten your DNA. If you'll recall, I did the same."

"You're not the one with a computer for a brain, Steve."

"No, I'm not. But I'll help anyway I can, Tony. I'm not leaving you to deal with this alone. I _won't_. We're in this together, you hear me? If you have a problem, you come to me and we can talk a way around it. If you're frustrated, talk so we can both be angry about it. If you're sad, let me know so I can help. You don't have to do this alone." Steve's voice softened toward the end.

Tony took several breaths, feeling like he was sitting on the head of a pin. He could either try to balance on his own and potentially risk falling over, or have Steve help him.

It went against every ingrained instinct to ask Steve for help. But he could remember deciding to give this relationship his best shot, come hell or high water. And this was definitely a specific version of hell.

Besides, it took two to tango. He couldn't let this fall solely on Steve's shoulders.

"Not alone?" he asked, just to be sure.

Steve's eyes were soft even as he nodded firmly, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. "No. Never."

Darting his eyes to the side as he made another impulsive decision, Tony threw himself forward to cling to Steve. There was a brief moment of surprise before Steve's arms wrapped tightly around him and he was being held firmly and warmly, curling into Steve's strength.

And then, almost silently, Tony broke down, stifling his sobs in the stiff material of Steve's uniform.

He might not know where he was going, but at least he knew who it would be with.

* * *

**The author hopes you had a pleasant ride home and that no one was injured during the journey. Comments, critiques, and complaints are appreciated and will be used for funding for further journeys with the crew. Your continued support is much appreciated and highly valued. Please purchase a ticket for the next available ride on _It's All in the Mind_, coming soon.**

**Thank you for reading with us today!  
**

**_Stats_: Word Count: **48,354**; ****Pages**: 130


	3. Blooper Reel

**The author would like to apologize for the long delay in getting the next installment ready. The ride An Alternative State of Mentality will be ready tomorrow morning. In the meantime, we hope you enjoy this blooper reel.  
**

* * *

"You are my creator," JARVIS said finally, tone subdued. "You taught me much, and what you did not know you encouraged me to seek out on my own, regardless of what it was. You answered all my questions, even if you could simply have pointed me to the relevant news article. I trust you and consider you a friend."

Tony blinked up at the ceiling. "You don't even call me Tony."

"I respect you, sir." _Fizz._

"I am your butler, sir." _Fizz._

**Tony squinted upward. "You're awfully indecisive, JARVIS."**

** "Forgive me, sir. I am attempting to phrase this appropriately for such an emotional touchy-feely conversation so that it does not seem out of character."**

** Tony leaned back, kicking his heels out. "Go ahead."**

** "Thank you, sir." JARVIS paused. "One moment…"**

* * *

As the two ate, the rest of the Avengers gradually trickled into the kitchen, grabbing their own food and joining them at the table. Spike did a marvelous impression of an insentient coffee machine as each new member came in, but relaxed once Peggy made it clear that they were all family of a sort. Thor's arrival was precipitated with _God Save the Queen_, which was strange considering he was male; Bruce's ironically with _Singin' in the Rain_; Clint's was _Hound Dog_; Natasha's – to Tony's endless amusement – was _Itsy Bitsy Spider_.

Surprisingly, the only reaction garnered was from Clint, who grumbled as he passed Peggy to get to the fridge. Natasha remained impassively stoic as the childish song played, which made Tony think this had been going on for a while.

Clint and Natasha were the last to join them, and Tony and Steve had largely finished their own breakfast at this point.

"Good to see you're out," Clint said, sitting down with a bowl of cereal for a change.

Natasha wasted no time in getting to the point, pointedly pushing a mug of coffee (that she'd made with the other coffee machine since Spike had refused to work) over to Tony. "The bugs have been found and extracted from the house. Explain."

Taking a moment to tune into the humming around him, Tony confirmed that all of the surveillance bugs had been removed. He took the coffee, making sure that Spike couldn't see that he'd effectively cheated on him.

"Is JARVIS well?" Thor inquired. He had a plate full of Pop-Tarts in front of him.

"He's fine. Now anyway." Tony tapped a finger against the mug, considering what he should say. "We were compromised," he said finally.

"Compromised?" Steve asked. "How?"

"Those codes I gave you," Tony said, smiling dryly. "I know the rest of you heard them when Steve used them, but Fury had the mikes tapped and apparently got hold of them as well. And then, apparently, so did the organization in possession of the Quinjet."

"Shit," Clint eloquently said.

"Fury locked JARVIS out from communicating with any of you while you were on that mission. He apparently also had a ball looking through my files, as that was the only way that organization could have gotten their hands on my Quinjet designs." Tony lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Wouldn't have been such a colossal cluster fuck if that organization hadn't used those codes to cut JARVIS off from the tower when I was with Pepper and to kill the suit when I was fighting them."

**He frowned, tilting his head to the side. "I thought it was just supposed to be us two in the kitchen?" he asked Steve.**

** "So did I."**

** "Well, dang," Clint said. "There's another blooper."**

* * *

After JARVIS had left them in the dark, Steve made the preemptive decision to begin walking to the village JARVIS had marked on Bruce's phone. There was some bickering as to which direction the village actually was, because they couldn't really tell with all the trees. The matter was settled when Bruce pulled out a compass in the phone and they took off from there.

They'd barely taken five steps in the right direction when JARVIS's voice crackled through the phone again: "_You can speak, sir._"

It was Clint who voiced the unspoken question. "What, JARVIS?"

Then, sweet merciful God, _Tony's voice_. "_Is this the Avengers? Am I connected to them?_"

Steve reached for the phone, unthinkingly grabbing it out of Bruce's hand."Tony? Is that you? Where are you?"

Bruce made a face at Steve, who didn't notice, engrossed as he was in the phone.

"_It's me,_" Tony answered, relieving Steve. There was a momentary pause before Tony answered Steve's other question. "_I'm not sure._"

Clint huddled by Steve. "Howcan you not be sure?" he demanded. "You're talking to us now, aren't you? Can't you figure it out using those computers?"

"_I'm not using computers,_" was Tony's snappish response.

Steve didn't question the odd statement. Desperate relief was still coursing through his system. It was all he could do to not start demanding that Tony tell them where he was. It wasn't like they could get there without transportation.

Tony's voice drew him out of his thoughts. "_JARVIS, what the hell happened? Power went out?_"

"_Every single satellite was taken offline. Power was lost throughout most of the world,_" JARVIS confirmed.

"_Damn. So that's what that was._"

"What?" Bruce asked from Steve's other side.

Tony didn't immediately answer Bruce's question. "_You guys are in Vietnam?_"

This was maddening. Steve had to find out what was going on. Judging from Tony's cryptic words, he'd probably had a hand in the world losing power.

"Tony, what's going on?" he asked, looking down at the phone as if he would be able to see Tony through it.

There was a short burst of static, almost as if Tony was getting ready to respond. Then his words made Steve's heart drop into his stomach. "_Damn._ _Hold that thought. Be right back._"

"What?" Steve blinked incomprehensively. "Tony!" He couldn't stop the panic from lacing his voice.

But it was useless. Tony had apparently clocked out, as there was nothing to be heard.

His heart leapt for a moment when a fizzle of static came, but dropped when only JARVIS spoke. "_I am unable to initiate contact with Mr. Stark._"

"Can't you find the frequency he was using?" Natasha asked. She was standing directly in front of Steve, flanked by Thor and Spider-Man.

In fact, Steve realized that they'd formed a little huddle around the phone he was holding in his hand. He realized guiltily that he'd snatched it out of Bruce's hands without so much as a thank you, but couldn't bring himself to relinquish it. It was the only connection he had to Tony.

"_He is ignoring it,_" JARVIS said, sounding both peeved and bemused. "_I do not believe he was using a computer terminal, as I found his consciousness inhabiting Stark Satellite._"

"What do you mean?" Steve demanded, terror rising in him.

"_Mr. Stark assured me that he had not been 'digitalized all the way',_" JARVIS said quickly, seeming to sense that his incongruous statement had caused some panic.

"That's just dandy!" Clint said blankly. "So he's been digitalized just a bit then?"

"_I wouldn't know, Agent._"

"Extremis," Bruce muttered, frowning slightly.

"What?" Natasha asked, eyes snapping up to him.

Bruce didn't react upon being the focus of every single person in the group. "It must be Extremis," he repeated, looking down at the phone. "If he isn't using a computer terminal and said he hadn't been digitalized all the way, the only explanation I can think of is Extremis."

"He was _infected_?" Clint sounded a mixture between horrified and disgusted.

"It's injected," Bruce corrected sharply. "Fury might have called it a virus, but it isn't contagious. You have to be injected with the serum in order for it to work and even then it doesn't."

A 98% fatality rate. If Tony had been injected with Extremis, how much longer did they have?

"If he's been injected with Extremis," Steve said, keeping his voice calm with a great force of will, "how much longer do we have?"

"It should be all right," Bruce said. "The fatality rate is for the period of time when Extremis is still modifying the body. If Tony is connecting to satellites and phone lines and capable of knocking out the world's power and satellites, then he should be in the clear."

"_My findings are in agreement with Dr. Banner's statements,_" JARVIS added.

"Back up a second," Clint said before Steve could. "Are you saying that Tony knocked out power?"

"Judging from what he was saying, it would make sense," Bruce said, shrugging lightly. "I'm not quite sure of Extremis's capabilities, as Fury's file didn't cover that, but it does give a person access to technology."

And Tony was fully able to access technology with his affinity to them. Perhaps more so than others who would be injected with Extremis.

But that didn't answer the question as to _why_. Why had Tony been injected with Extremis – if he had been at all?

"We should keep moving," Steve finally said, not voicing any of his thoughts.

"Anthony will be fine," Thor said confidently, reading something in Steve's voice. "He has endured much."

Steve was only able to muster up a weak smile in response to that, though it faded quickly. "Let's move," he said, gripping the phone tighter.

It was five minutes of walking and continually checking the map to make sure they were heading the right direction before there was another fizzle of static and Steve stopped dead, hardly daring to breathe.

"_Okay, I'm back._"

His breath left him in a loud exhalation. "Tony! Are you all right?"

"_I'm fine. Just peachy. You?_"

A short laugh of disbelief burst out of him before he could stop it. He could scarcely believe that Tony was asking _them_ how they were when he was the one currently being held captive. "We're fine."

"We're worried about you, idiot," Clint added, hovering by Steve's elbow. "Where are you?"

"_I'll get back to you on that,_" Tony responded. "_Dr. Hansen,_" he said abruptly. "_Where is she?_"

That made absolutely no sense. "What?"

Tony's answer to that made even less sense. "_Answer me._"

Perplexed, Steve looked over his shoulder, only to find the other Avengers looking similarly confused. He couldn't read Spider-Man's expression, hidden behind the mask as it was.

Then Tony said, "_Thank you._" A short moment later his words made much more sense: "_Sorry about that._"

"What happened?" Steve asked. "We only heard your end."

Tony sounded intrigued. "_That so?_"

This time it was Natasha who snatched the phone out from Steve's hand. "A little more information would be appreciated," she snapped. It seemed that she had reached the limit with Tony not giving them answers.

Steve delicately took the phone back a frowning Natasha as Tony seemed to consider what he should say. He could practically hear the gears whirring in his partner's head even over the phone line.

"_I'm talking to you in my head,_" Tony said finally."_Or I'm talking out loud, but I could just be silent. Which I'll do right now._"

Steve couldn't tell a difference about what Tony was claiming to do.

Clint's answer was acerbic, earning him a rather disapproving look from Steve, which he of course ignored. "Of course you're talking to us in your head. You think before you speak, or the other way if you're stupid."

"_No. I mean I have a phone line to you in my head. I also accidentally knocked out power in most of the world, so sorry about that._"

"_Not repeating the experience would be greatly appreciated,_" JARVIS said.

There was a short pause before Tony's cool tone exited the phone, not directed to any one of them. "_Hello, Doctor. I think you have some questions to answer, don't you?_"

"Tony?" The word left his lips before he could stop it, anxiety coating every syllable of it.

"_You failed to mention the ninety-eight percent chance of fatality,_" Tony said pleasantly, sending chills down Steve's spine. He'd never heard his partner sound so coldly amiable before – save for when he had been talking to Fury.

Natasha tramped by Steve, looking straight ahead. Her back was stiff and her right hand curled into a fist.

Hesitating only slightly, Steve began following, eyes still on the phone and the map displayed on it.

Eventually, Tony began speaking again. "_In a matter of speaking_"—his frosty tone made Steve bite his lip in anxiety—"_I suppose I am._"

An outburst at his side had Steve starting before he realized it was only Clint. "For fuck's sake, Tony! Tell us what is going on!"

Tony's response was curt. "_I'm talking to Hansen. She injected me with Extremis, considering I was too far gone._"

Dread spiked through Steve at the words. It wasn't until he garnered a concerned look from Bruce that he realized he'd made a distressed noise.

Thor took over for him. "Where are you, Anthony? We will hurry to your side as soon as JARVIS provides us our ride."

"_Where are we?_" Tony demanded someone – presumably the infamous Dr. Hansen.

A moment later the response came, parroted from Hansen: "_Underground and somewhere in the Mongolian steppes._" Another short pause and then:"_How did you get to Vietnam when you don't have a ride?_"

"We did," Bruce said, taking the phone from Steve's lax fingers, "but someone knocked out power, which included taking out the Quinjet."

The way Bruce phrased the statement had Steve wondering something. And Spider-Man, too, apparently.

"If our jet was taken down, what about other planes flying at the same time?" Spider-Man asked.

"**_Spider-Man_**_?_" It wasn't often Steve heard Tony sound so surprised, but he wished it was in a different situation.

"We'll explain later," Natasha said curtly, not looking back at Steve.

But there was apparently no need to, as scant seconds later Tony's horrified voice came in a whisper, "_Oh God. JARVIS—_"

"_I know, sir._" The AI's tone was subdued. "_I was unable to reestablish power in time to save the planes that were affected._"

Tony's answer was blank of emotion, but the reason for that was so obvious that it made Steve's heart ache. "_Not your fault. You couldn't have accessed them._"

"_I could have, sir. I am Skynet._" Once again, Steve didn't understand the reference, but didn't need to for him to understand that it was a futile attempt at cheering Tony up.

"_Lead us out of here._" Tony was again talking to someone they couldn't hear, but this time the tone was defeated.

Steve stared down at the phone Bruce was still holding, chest hurting. He wanted nothing more than to hold Tony and comfort him. It hadn't been Tony's fault that the planes had gone down. He'd been in pain and hurting and had struck out at the first thing that had come to him. He couldn't be held accountable for something he hadn't known about.

"_I'll send you coordinates to the place,_" Tony was saying, jerking Steve out of his thoughts. "_I'll meet you here._"

Steve swallowed, needing to say something. Anything. "Tony…"

"_I'll meet you here,_" was all Tony said.

Then the connection was cut, and all Steve had to comfort himself was the thought that Tony was all right and they could get to him in several hours.

But first they had to get out of here.

**Deadpool sighed. "This is too similar to Tony's POV."**

** Everyone stared at him. "Who are you?"**

** The costumed villain shrugged. "A random person the author inserted to make it clear that she has to rewrite this scene and that she hopes it'll only take one more try because the amount of bloopers this story has is outrageous. BTW, love your costume," he said to Spider-Man. "Toodle-doo!" He disappeared as suddenly as he had popped up.**

* * *

**As a reminder, the next ride of _It's All in the Mind_ will be ready for takeoff tomorrow morning! Join us on An Alternative State of Mentality!**


End file.
